Room.9

Room 9.

Room 9.

Chelsea’s sitting, no homework again.

Teacher’s shouting, she not listening, too deep in her pain.

She’s released that school holds her no gain.

Teacher’s hands clapping, fingers snapping, not understanding what is happening.

Back in Chelsea’s council flat, there’s been a mishap.

No callback, thinking perhaps, mentally unstable, she’s collapsed.

Deep down she knows it, she just hopes it.

isn’t.

Dad’s on the floor, overdosed.

No wonder Chelsea’s comatosed.

Room 3.

Alissa’s daydreaming, world changing scheming.

creativity streaming, teacher screaming.

“Little Ms. Daydream, read for the class”,

” Nah Ms. I’d rather pass”.

“Don’t back answer”,

The letters are dancer’s.

Her head fulls with comeback after comeback, she’s starts a verbal attack.

Cos a suspension is better then a declension.

Room 15.

Eli’s sits at the back of the classroom, in bits, has another rugby blitz.

The game “he” doesn’t fit but for “his” dad "him playing is bliss.

Can’t even focus, it’s hopeless.

Ballet is more “his” style, “his” family would think it vile.

Can’t finish the test, trying “his” best.

Her soul screaming for not just point shoes, but deep down she wanted tutu’s.

Her grades were slipping but she didn’t care, sending out flares.

The thing that bothered her was putting “male” on front page.

She was trapped in a cage what an outrage!

Room 6.

Avery’s living Eli’s perfect life, but in her mind is a knife.

Not looking at the books, cos brains aren’t important it’s all bout looks.

She’s not even thinking straight, how could she when she don’t remember the last time she ate.

Tutu’s hugging figures, walls covered in mirrors, spotlights and tights, now she’s following pro anorexia sites.

She can’t make out the blackboard, no she can’t make out anything.

Head starts to spin next thing you know she’s floored.

At this point she can’t even hear, doesn’t even cry a tear.

She disappears, but she hadn’t been here for years.

Room 12.

Esther’s watching the boys soccer team, to be out there would be a dream.

But pink socks and “kicks like an ox” didn’t quite make the schools appeal.

Cos girls don’t get Manchester deals.

She knows this but it don’t matter cos it feels like bliss.

Has the same talent as Beckham, same effort as Messi.

But that don’t matter cos girls don’t get deals,

this she feels.

Room 17.

Missy’s excepting, only fifteen but she was on the seen.

Today’s here first sex Ed, “a bit late now” she saying in her head.

Bell rings and no mention of contraception.

The nun at the front keeps giving her a glare, the dad’s in the class but she don’t care.

Says that sex is for “sl~t’s” followed by tuts.

Missy isn’t surprised she gets it everywhere she goes,

hears mom’s telling kids “it’s because of her clothes”.

Her back’s sore, wants help but her and the dad don’t talk anymore.

She’s crying every night, trying to make things right.

But Missy is this the local “sl~t” come morning light.

They won’t talk about it so, some other girl will have to raise a kid solo.

Room 8.

Tyler’s swinging off his chair, his not paying attention cos he’s aware.

Money doesn’t grow on tree, so goodbye to any degrees.

He’s brighter than most, but his intelligence has become a ghost.

Hiding in the dark, his mind isn’t going to leave its mark,

and he knows it, so hopeless.

Room 19.

Chloe was paying attention, now she’s looking down she can feel the tension.

She feels the eyes of the male teacher, looking at her features.

Used to study hard but not anymore, automatic A’s so what for.

She hates the feeling, wonders if it’s her fault for wearing something revealing.

But she’s fourteen, he’s way older than eighteen.

objectified, sexualised, testified.

Isn’t comfortable in the room, but “it’s nothing” she assumes.

But his arm touches her back and she instantly feels under attack.

Room 14.

Ethan is listening, glistening.

First year, this is his premiere.

Hoping his skin doesn’t get in the way,

teacher walks in from the hallway.

Takes one look and Ethan knows his going to be seen as the crook.

Profiled schoolchild, his hope fades away,

just hoping about someday.

Author's Note

Thanks to anyone who has reviewed this it means a lot to me.