Ties tighten on those who pass the gates as their eyes kiss the pavement and want to remain in its company until the bells ring 

Sins and sins and hearts concerned wave and praise and hold out their hands to passers-by as they turn their backs on those stood still 

The grins, chuckles and crooked pointed fingers remain in the playground from days gone by and circulate like chalk scattered by the wind 

Teachers, who may as well be wearing bleached white collar, pass by as they place their hand on the shoulder of another shining example of patience and power

Break time, break up time, wolves plan their pray as you bleat like a lamb, after all, a target is a target and it is there to do its job, whatever the weather, comer rain or shine or the shaking of a dinner ladies’ fist  

Bells ring, last of a hopeless day, cars wait but as they move, for some, it is as if they remain static as to conserve their energy for yet another day of large hills and dead branches