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You sit and watch and wait, Hoping he will give the work a try. But how could he concentrate, While you feed him a lie.   “This school is safe” you say While you watch him be abused.
What differs me from you? Why does one look down like looking at a dirty shoe? Disgusted, fussy, and frankly, quite mean. Is it my face? My glasses? My clothes? My race? Tell me what do you want?
Listening to Beethoven’s 9th, Hear the music dance, Rise and the fall, Stories he had to tell, Losing his hearing, Struggles he went through, Pain he felt. I know his pain. I am not deaf,
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