Lost History

The girl beside me dozing off, the teacher in her monotone voice

I have been here for not very long but I could already feel the roots of my hair graying

The lines around my mouth, next to my eyes and all throughout my forehead already forming

Behind me a boy was scribbling out the last of his homework, he is the only one moving

The rest of us are statues from the same renaissance the teacher was droning on about

We pose now so that people in a few thousand years can come and point

Talking about what once was

They will think they know everything that happened

But they won’t

They won’t know about that boy and his handsome face and how all the girls would swoon over him

They won’t know about the two girls who got up the courage to walk hand in hand down the hall

They will never know the pain of the ones who went unheard