The lecture was over,
I was packing up my supplies,
And they were trying to escape.
My shoulder inflamed and angry.
I moved slowly.
Students left in droves.
And I still lingered.
Forgetting and struggling to pack.
Even the teacher was ready to leave.
And with a “have a good day. ” she was gone.
I hustled my last few things.
And turned to leave.
I would not be left at the school.
But the door, disagreed.
It was closed and heavy.
all I had was an arm with an injured shoulder.
And my head.
The arm wasn’t an option.
Who needs dignity?
A a thick head works
SickyBeat 