Sydney B.

I Am a Desk

I am a desk .

I wonder why I have stuff in me.

I hear the kids writing on me.

I see the paper on me.

I want to never be written on.

I am going to get moved inside a classroom.

I pretend to be as happy as can be.

I feel sad.

I touch the people’s  arms.

I understand I must be used for writing.

I say “ Bye, Bye “ to the kids when they leave .

I dream I will be able to talk one day.