last class

Silent, I sit in this white room with white computers and white keys and white kids. The lack of diversity makes me dizzy. I sit, silent, trying to recover and trying to write. The teacher is from the south and her accent is motherly and loving, but still destracting. The keys of the boards on which they are attatched klick away as people pretend to work as i am. Click Click Click. No work, no work, no work. These are the sounds of last block. They come from this white room with the white computers. The whites of the kid's eyes next to me are noting but. More like the hange over of his eyes. He sits, three days behind. I sit three days ahead. With an A+ and my papers on the white walls. But my fingers sit on these keys. Click, Click, Ding, Ding, Ding.
Peace out white walls.