Disparity

by Hae-In Kim, age 16, from US

Walking through the crowded hall,
hordes of human bodies,
act as barriers.
Explosion of lockers being slammed,
the deafening hum of voices,
the swish-swishing of pants.
Finally reaching the classroom,
jostled at the doorway,
and pushed in with the stream of people rushing through.
Desks scraping against the floor,
adjusting to new forms.
Someone's desk is uneven,
rocking back and forth,
squeaking.
Bookbags pound the floor
with a sigh.
Pencil and paper dragged out,
the whirring of the fan in the back
merely spewing out warm air.
The grind of the sharpener,
pencils flying across paper, erasures soaring,
gum snapping,
chalk running across the board
in the room next door.
And someone is tapping their feet
to an imaginary rhythm.