The ever present luminescence of the stairwells cast shadows of midnight,
while behind blinds sit students playing with their robots with all their might.
As if the success of their life depends on the strength of the robot's mind.
Little do they know that robots are not going to save them from becoming blind;
through the sweet breeze lurks a man not many know,
he approaches the walk with the air of a king many years removed from his show.
"Why do you care that I sit here drinking a beer?" he jeered,
O how pathetic it was when upon his removal the crowd cheered,
and the pace with which they decided he was not fit to join,
when some time ago they described him as a the leader of the battle of Boyne.
So often they tell you to look forward and forget the past,
especially with a man like Tom Robinson, for whom they didn't know the facts.
As the evening draws on, the groan of the highway overtakes the ripples of the sea,
and again everyone remembers that they can not get another C,
here they are to learn the general facts needed to live,
there are the ones though, the lazy crew, who are there to give.
"You are wasting our time," the professors complained.
And so the crew hopped ship and took off on a plane,
bound for countries in need with the goal of giving only more,
and as the plane touched down the professors grew increasingly sore,
for the crew brought warmth to each little town,
planting beautiful flowers in the ground.
Back next to the highway kids felt bent by the rapid flow of necessary lessons,
while their parents sent them fruity delicatessens.
Sara sat in her suite listening to the laughter on the street,
"they don't understand why they are here," she decreed.
A statement with which her parents very much agreed,
"They will struggle to live happy and free, but you will have the money everyone needs."
A day later she sat behind the cat who moved so magnificent,
she hid under a hood of embarrassment,
for she had discovered it was she, not he,
that had gotten the lonely D.
She leaned to the boy asking "how can this be?"
He told her that life could not be taken so simply seriously.
She looked at the boy in a pair of jeans and a shirt rough along the seems,
she questioned how such an image could keep focus on a dream,
as he packed to leave he turned to the girl and said,
“come by my house and I will teach you how to bake complex bread."
The idea seemed strange, but she was far from naïve,
she approached with a mind not ready to believe,
but the rhythm of the boy's dance brought a smile to her face.
"Come sit down, promise me this wont be a race, I like to move at a pleasant pace."
The boy moved pure and free opening cupboards with a style the girl had not seen,
"Please join me, I can not teach unless you join me in the scene."
"Please understand I am not of your kind at all," the girl implied.
"I know, I cant stand your type," the boy lied.
He sang songs, mixed and stirred,
creating poetry without using words.
And soon they moved with the wiseness of owls,
as the girl created beautiful sounding vowels,
and at the top of her lungs she cried,
"I want to tell my parents of all I have discovered inside."
She left the boy with a kiss to inspire a Shakespeare piece,
and phoned her parents to explain the Arabic she just learned with such ease.
"What do you mean you don’t want to go green?"
"Because money is not what I need!"
She now spoke in a tongue they did not know, that seemed obscure,
her parents feared that she like so many dropouts would soon be caught in the blur.
They told her it was all over now,
they told her that she was jumping of the bow.
Back to the boy she ran, longing for the touch of his hand,
he told her not to get mad, and told her tales of a native land,
she moved from her robot to the street,
and soon she had a fluid step to her feet,
the air had grown light and her heart brought others delight.
The boy sat down remembering the terrible fright of the previous night,
when he told his parents the plans for his life.
"You wont be any better than those in the middle of economic strife."
The boy responded with laughter saying, "that is probably what the world needs,”
on he continued “I have what I need, it doesn't involve the ideas of green or greed,"
he painted a life entangled in the earth's weeds,
his ability to use old and new soil to create beautiful trees for incredible deeds.
His parents had no time for the Japanese, "take care of yourself please."
The boy looked to Sara for strength in the knees,
she told him tales of others whose dreams no one could understand with ease,
and how at first people regarded them as a disease,
now the boy stands, with the purpose of a memorial.
-I found this on my computer written sometime last school year, I think Week 3 of Spring Quarter, hence the title
