The boy who picks a festered splotch
That hides his soul, veils his life,
The hefty girl overflowing a desk,
Whose foot will never fit a glass slipper,
The trembling voice of a reluctant reader,
Patched pockets and knees
Inviting insult, teasing, hurt,
Brown and crooked teeth
Made worse by smiling,
The empty seat of a girl
With knitted hair and
Tell-tale stains of an accident,
The four-eyed child in the front row,
The unkempt boy in dirt-brown shirt,
Sack-plain faces that blemish the room—
Weeds among rare flowers,
Nameless, blameless,
All the same—
All the pain.