Last hurrah
Rah-rah-rah, I run my thumb over the mottled plastic of the bleachers
As the yellow wood gym floor squeak-squeak-squeaks under sneakers.
A girl next to me who I don’t- never talk to hah-hah-hah snickers
And like a staticky channel flip my vision blink-blink-blink flickers.
When-where-what-who-why am I again?
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A wonderful poem to read aloud! Thanks.