dave opens his lunchbox
and he has sandwiches
cut in picture perfect
triangles (like fields).
jane has salad
because she thinks she’s fat
but she’s not.
she doesn’t like salad.
she chews the leaves with squinty eyes.
i have an apple.
it’s bruised
like me.
later, they strain for the sound
of the school bell,
ringing,
releasing them so they can
go home.
i hear it too, but my chair
isn’t hasty in scraping backwards
doesn’t let me leave
with the joy i see on their faces.
they go to comfort
and i go to the tennis court
and play basketball
until i am sure he is asleep
and i can go home.
Dunedin Secondary School Poetry Competition