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The First Day
Like a frail flower
he sits in dismay,
predicting hate and bad kids in his mind,
waiting for the bus to take him away
to unknown rooms,
and a place that's class.
In the bright schoolbus,
the seats hosting youth so boisterously in tune with dreams alive,
he rides away from Mom's apron strings,
sad in his look,
but filled with her words of faith,
and her love,
reassurance of her soft kiss.
His home and his dog
so far away
he's so alone
with emptiness to grip
and surely a mad teacher to greet him.
Bus stops,
and a small hand takes his in trust
and he's drawn to smile..
at tender sweet eyes.
Smilesz....well, u know i like such childlike poems, eric...thanxs for sharing this, evoked a lot of my own primary school days...i even faked a tummyache on one of those years...jus becos i didnt like a teacher. Smilesz.. So glad i caught this..... on..to more of your poems now.
oh how I can relate to this one... I think I can remember what it was like to have that first day... I was so afraid... this was such a heart warming poem... I like it very much.... I think that there should be someone nice at all schools to meet the little ones on their first day.... they might like school better.... Renee'