UPDATED DELETIONS

Markers, pens, pencils, highlighters and erasers click.
The sound is distant but a wish is so near. My wish.
The one wish that has me struggling to make a mark,
The wish that has my boundaries almost cracking.
The wish that has me looking beyond my situation,
Beyond the probability that I may not live to see tomorrow,
Beyond the possible trips to a Juvenile prison.
The wish of a thirteen year old that may not come true.

I want to write. To write something meaningful.
Something that promises me a good future,
A promise that when given the chance I must fulfill.
Writing. I wouldn’t need no blank space to write,
I just need somewhere, a platform to write. My desire.
Mother says humans write using modified trees,
Something she used before life became hard. Pencils.
Mother says if I be good, I’ll earn a pencil. My greatest joy.

I have an acquaintance. Ivan, the urban boy.
He says he can teach me alphabets and I’m happy.
I have no idea what the fuck that is but I’m interested.
Because it sounds like something that can help me,
Improve our lives, in a society where education is an unawares.
I am hopeful and ready to know what it is.
He is my current hope, the true candle of light,
One that I don’t plan on sneezing while with.

Ivan keeps telling me about some place, the school.
The place where people gather to learn new things,
A luxury we have been denied, but maybe not totally.
The only school I know of is the Rodsy gang recruitment.
I could brag of my knowledge of my not so important things,
I know how to aim and shoot guns perfectly and do repairs,
Repairs of the Rodsy gang’s rides without complaining,
Just like every thirteen year old boy in my neighborhood.

My neighborhood, ruled by the Rodsy gang among others.
There’s gangs everywhere and ain’t nobody going to feed my ass,
If I don’t work, and Mother’s little earnings aren’t enough.
Ivan says education is good but hey I can just pray and wish.
I earn just eleven dollars a day, half of which I save,
I’m hopeless but hopefully saving so that someday,
Someday, I will be a better person and change many lives.
The other half of my earnings is spent on cigars and fitting in.

I have dreams but I don’t need no gun pulled on me,
With the claim I am drifting off, the price of backward thinking.
If only the government would improve our conditions,
Or show just a little effort so we can learn, I wouldn’t be here.
Instead it treats us like animals, something we’re turning into,
What to do when I’m born and raised in this place?
I want to learn and be on TV just like those people in good suits,
Someday. Someday we will be updated deletions but until then,
I pray the government listens to us, the neglected of the society.