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Recess
November 27, 2013
I’m on the curb. I sit with shackles bound around my ankles, making make me unable to play; I long to be free. It’s tempting, to stand up, and run, but the eyes that watch me like a hawk keep me on this concrete that burns me. I get the courage to wave at my friend, but it makes the hurt and the loneliness greater. I look up and see my friends, running and laughing. I feel paralyzed. Someone calls my name, and I walk to the door, dragging the chains behind me. Finally, Recess is over.
© Seita O., Louisville, KY
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