Promise

Promise

Blank face…
I know you have a story
inside you.
It is stuck.
Your words are stuck,
even for talking.
If I sit beside you,
it will be easier
maybe.
Third grade is tough
when you don’t know how to write

the word ‘the.’
How did you get here, young friend?
No wonder you don’t want to talk.
No wonder.
Lost in a swarm of students.
I will sit beside you
every day.
Together, we will pull out
your stories…
read them back,
keep them.
Maybe you will
find your voice
and
someday
smile.

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