Schoolyard Vandal

Back in the old days

They drooled over words a boy writ

And love all the stanzas in the grass with his spit

 

Boy as a child

He was a special, he wrote

And read as a priest in the schoolyard

Speak as to humble, kids hear from his throat

 

They all hear his name at the gravel mounds

An unorthodox practice of illustrations and games

Bring them all in, was his concept to cite

As they brought to him

Drawings and stories and smiles to the round bit

An aim to innovate, these children grounded in their thoughts

As they finally saw their dreams leak into their fast-paced days

And the schoolyard sometimes glowed in bright-hot rays

 

Back in the old days

They reached for his laughter, he writ

And washed their sneakers in the mornings’ damp grass

Wet with his spit