Schoolhouse

Angeludi Asaah, Contributing Writer

She opens her mouth,
Beckoning forth all who wish to acquire her omniscience.

Obedient children are rewarded with a warm embrace,
While naughty kids are chewed on until they change their ways.

She cries at the thought of juvenile failure,
Yet smiles every time a diploma is placed into a new hand.

Dreaming that her students will one day reach her ever-climbing expectations,
But she administers too much pressure and watches them all slip away.

Praying for the day they can fly on their own,
She takes a step back and releases her grip.

At the end of each year, she’ll have to let go.
She’ll reopen her mouth, and spit them into the real world.