We sat today in a classroom
on tiny chairs meant for little people
Walls filled with messages
Meant for them to read
every now and then
possibly ideas to seed.

Wherever I turned
there were little notes,
You are Special.
You are respected.
You are Artists and Scientists they said.
Enjoy the little things, it read.

But as we sat looking around
the voice we heard,
it said other things…
She never listens,
Never prepared to class
he never participates,
doesn’t tell you stuff
Reluctant to write
loses track of time.

The judging voice that refused to see,
the words on the wall,
the tiny feet in the hall
the disappointment that makes their faces fall
The pointless expectations
the cold expressions.

The constant judgement that will carry,
this day forth, and forever more,
the cycle has begun,
it had never stopped,
Once we were there
standing in the corner,
someday they will be there too
sitting on that chair
meant for little people.