Scott Whitby, 2024
A little girl waits for the early bus.
It's cold out and black like she is.
Mom watches from the door,
but then the baby cries.
She's scared of the older girl,
the one that said she stinks
and laughed at her shoes.
She heard some kids are mean.
She sits quiet, lost her pencil, couldn't do her homework alone.
She needs to pee but is afraid to say.
No socks and her feet are cold.
The lunchroom is too loud.
She can't drink milk, it makes her ill.
She's so sleepy after noon,
and she still can't find her pencil.
End of the day, time to leave,
in line for bus number four.
She's not happy like everyone else.
She knows it's no better at home.
Teacher asks if she's cold or hungry and asks "Do you have a friend?".
She says "No...I'm okay, but
can you hold my hand?".
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