Dedicated to all those neat and wonderful people who teach ... and more.
The boy carefully tip-toed through cheap wine bottles
And dirty clothes strewn in piles across the floor.
A man he didn't know lay sprawled upon the sofa
Echoing sonorous sounds as his massive stomach
Rose and fell.
He tightly clutched a tablet and precious books.
A lunch pail dangled from his scrawny fingers.
No kind words or kiss ushered him to the door.
The harsh voice of an ugly street spoke to him
As it opened
Child of the ghetto stepped quickly to the walk.
School was a danger-filled six blocks away.
Charcoal tenements loomed darkly overhead
Those alert eyes and ears too familiar
With blasts and screams echoing
In the night.
The ancient, high-walled room brought instant calm.
Aromas of cedar-oil and chalk refreshed his mind,
Easing the heart-beat of this ghetto child.
And there behind her massive knife-carved desk she sat
And she cared.
"Why good morning, Jerome! My, you are an early bird!
It's really good to see a boy in love with school!"
She flashed a warm and toothy smile which made
Him quickly forget the hunger in his stomach,
And his heart.
