A Hard Head

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


Published by sickybeat

I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty

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