Walking past the rush
Who hurry carelessly 
         to first period class.
The clumps of bad boys stick together
like dirt stuck in between
the grooves of their shoes.

The girl with curls of  fair yellow
and indigo sheltered glasses
Sits across from the table for
a moment, gathering
homework from last week and
picks herself up and
walks in the other direction.

Her face is a blank page
with smudged markings scarring her skin.
Looking out of the wide window
Searching for a destination of halo.

The hallways are bleached
with a bland interior
A scent of  hand sanitizer
and misplaced moisturizer.