LOCKER FIVE TWENTY-SEVEN By Nicole Longley

Brand new school

It’s my first day of class

Middle of the semester

Hope it’s over with fast

 

Mine’s locker Five Twenty-Seven

At the far end of the hall

Chipped, bent up door

Triple six scrawled on the wall

 

I open the locker

Not surprised to find,

Balled up paper and garbage,

And an old notebook inside

 

The notebook is decorated

Both backside and front

No clues to the owner,

So inside I hunt

 

I look for a name

But inside I find,

Deep personal thought

Yet nothing is signed

 

I can tell it’s a girl’s,

And I get the impression,

This poor girl has faced

A lot of suppression

 

Her story is unveiled

Right before my eyes

Ink blurred on the pages,

Where the girl often cries

 

 

She’s Muslim by faith,

But American born

Bullied for her religion

And the clothes she has worn

 

Her parents are both

Of Middle Eastern decent

They gave her their dark skin,

And her foreign accent

 

She is called names like terrorist,

Through-out the day

The student’s slice her to pieces,

With the words that they say

 

They degrade her so much

Inside she’s a mess

They harass and tease her

Made her deeply depressed

 

She’s different from the others,

So they constantly mock her

They threaten her daily

Jokes she keeps bombs in her locker

 

Her self-esteem’s shattered

She aches to her core

I decide to search for the owner

Of my locker before

 

I go to the office

Walk up to the reception

I ask for the previous owner

Of locker Five Twenty-Seven

 

The receptionist’s face

Tells me that she knows

But the answer not pleasant

In the expression she shows

 

She knows without checking

The girl of locker Five Twenty-Seven

But she says I won’t find her

Says the poor girl in heaven

 

Her mother found her in the morning,

In a noose made from a sheet

She left her a note

On the floor under her feet

 

“Dear mom I love you

Please try not to cry,

But I can’t stand the pain

So I am saying good-bye”

 

 

This girl was tormented,

So she sought a means to an end

Perhaps all this girl needed

Was one single friend

 

I’ve kept her book with me

As a reminder to always be kind

Her stories keep me humble

Help me center my mind

 

She left a mark on my soul

Although we never met

This girl taught me a lesson,

One I will never forget

 

It only takes one person to see,

Someone’s pain and their strife

It takes only one person to listen,

And maybe save someone’s life.

 

 

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