Photo by Vitolda Klein on Unsplash
Poetry Written Works

The Student’s Fairytale by Haven Jordan

In the school, the young boy sat— 

Never knowing where his mind was at— 

The teacher taught— 

But it was all for naught— 

For the little boy whose mind unfocused— 

Sat thinking of when the end of school would be closest— 

The teacher paused and stared quite blankly—

At the little boy who looked quite angry— 

They asked “what’s wrong?” with no response—

For the little boy was nonchalance— 

In his mind he was free— 

Free to be whatever he wished to be— 

The boy could be in the renaissance — 

While to the world was in a trance— 

The boy could be the president— 

While in his mind he was a resident—

His peers may laugh for they do not know—

The joys within that young boy’s soul—

The joys of not knowing what comes next—

There sitting at his small desk— 

The boy had a place to which he could escape—

From this world where there was so much hate—

Into a fairytale just for him— 

Where he lived life on a whim— 

While in lunch he sits alone— 

While in his mind his friends are shown—

His friends who understand him so—

While his fellow man will never know— 

So they just see this young boy wander—

As he walks they are bystanders— 

As he fulfills every hope— 

The people watch him and say “nope”—

While he has this joy so pure— 

They never see joy is the cure— 

Joy is the cure to sadness’ strife— 

No matter where you are in life— 

The boy returns to the unjoyful sight—

Of his peers who never stop the fight—

The fight between what’s wrong and right—

The fight between those out of sight—

Those out of sight enemies— 

Are seen to this young boy in his dreams— 

He sees the path to rid them all— 

But they won’t listen so they fall—

They fall into depression pure 

Envious of this young man who’s joy is sure—

Because he found joy in his mind—

He was seen as one of a kind—

He was seen as the only one— 

Who could leave this world into his own of fun—

While all they had to do was look— 

Look beyond what is written in a book—

Look beyond the joys within them written—

Into their own where joy is given— 

The boy just sighs— 

As his peers realize— 

That joy that the young boy felt— 

Was because in his mind he dwelt— 

And so they built their dreams up tall—

And so their souls stopped the fall— 

That young boy who changed their lives—

Never claimed he helped them through this strife—

He just sat amidst his invisible friends—

Until the school year did end—