There you are sitting in my classroom,
unaware of the trauma you have already endured,
in your short life.
You speak about not knowing your daddy,
and your grandparents fighting,
Your heart so big; how does it fit inside your small chest?
Your big dark eyes engulf me every time our eyes meet. I love you so much, and I care about you like you were my own.
I wish I could do more for you but I don’t know how.
unaware of the trauma you have already endured,
in your short life.
You speak about not knowing your daddy,
and your grandparents fighting,
while you sleep in a winter jacket at night in your bed.
Yet, through everything you’ve been through,
you manage to place your peanut butter crackers on my desk in case I get hungry.Your heart so big; how does it fit inside your small chest?
Your big dark eyes engulf me every time our eyes meet. I love you so much, and I care about you like you were my own.
I wish I could do more for you but I don’t know how.
My husband works in the second grade at a very low-income school. This poem reminded me so much of what he says when he comes home every night.
ReplyDeleteI think as educators we all wish we could do more but we are only one and there is only so much we can do
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