A classroom stitched with quiet joys,
Children seated two by two,
Hands folded,
Ears leaning toward the teacher’s voice.
First day.First hour.
Strangers sharing wooden space,
Eyes flicker with anxious curiosity,
Whispers slip through restless smiles,
Friendships waiting to be named.
Bench number five,to the left,
A small,unnoticed world.
On the right,a boy,
Eyes lowered,
Lost in the blank white paper before him,
As if it already held a universe.
On the left,a girl,
Restless,untamed,
A grin that refused stillness,
A spirit that never sat where it should.
White paper lies before every child.
“Draw what you feel,”the teacher says.
The boy begins,
Curious,swift and certain,
Ink flowing like thought unbroken,
Lines alive with something rare,
Something not yet complete.
Beside him,
A wandering glance,
Curiosity of admiration curdles into envy.
She looks at her empty white paper,
Then at his.
An impulsive thought,
Put into action,
Her jealous hand lifts a bottle,
Water spills,
An evil ruin.
The paper surrenders,
Ink dissolves into nothing,
A world undone before it is seen.
A single tear escapes him,
Falling softly,
Onto what remains.
Is she the sinner?
The teacher softens,
The boy is comforted,
The girl is warned.
Regret arrives too late,
It always does.
She cries,
She apologizes,
She learns.
But what of the boy?
Will he ever draw that again,
That exact flicker of thought,
That fragile truth?
Will he ever sit near someone to draw, without the fear of his paper getting ruined?
Perhaps he will sit alone next time.
Draw something else,
Something new,
Something different.
But never the same.
And no one,
Not even him,
Will ever know,
What was meant to exist,
On that page.
——————————————————————————————————————-
Apologies do not return what they destroy.
Some wounds rewrite unseen lives.
And the deepest injustice of all,
Is not knowing---
What life might have been without it.
Yours,
Nilani🌜
Will he ever draw that again, never!!🦋🌷
ReplyDeleteReally loved reading this ✨