Six Days

Foolish.
Fools.
Tom-foolery.
And a pen that doesn't work.
They talk.
Birds squawk.
It mostly sounds the same.
There's an instructor instructing,
but no one's listening.
The sun is shining.
Searing. Blazing.
My skirt tickles.
Itches my ankles.
Pink sidewalk chalk.
Let's go for a walk
and leave this place behind.
Cold hallways.
Cold glances.
Forget second chances.
You've used all of yours.
Cracked earth.
Dried up memories.
Stones
thrown.
Weeds and wilted grass.
Ready to fly away
like a bird on the wing.
How much longer?
Six days.