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Book 24 Page 45
The empty class room
The schools rooms empty,
the children are on their holidays.
The class rooms are perfectly quiet
on this normally busy Monday.
The bright colors of the children’s art work
hang upon the display boards.
With stars and animals sticker upon them
Which were the children’s rewards.
But the children are not here,
and the rooms are ‘deafly quiet.’
But somehow a part of the children’s souls remain,
You can feel it, and you can’t deny it!
It is as though the children have left their mark,
though they are at home watching television no doubt.
But I can hear -in my mind’s ear - somehow
their laughter and screams and shouts.
“Miss Henderson,” cries one child,
“what do you think of my painting!?”
“It’s a fine work of art” thinks both teacher and child,
in this there is no debating.
“Can I be excused please Miss?”
Plea’s a small freckled faced child.
Hoping to get out of work
if only for a short while.
I can hear these things though the corridors are empty now
without the usual lunch bags upon the walls.
And it’s an eerie and unusual situation
to see these -once busy corridors - totally empty of children’s souls.
But the children’s exuberant still remains,
and they ring like memories in my mind.
Though the children are not in class today,
the doors are shut, / the rooms darkened by drawn blinds.
It’s like the children have imprinted the building
with their feelings and thoughts making me be engrossed,
as their teacher I prepare for another school day,
with a class room full of; ‘children’s ghost.
© Written by Dominic John Gill www.poetry.net.au email@example.com Created on 7/19/00