A child trudges home from school

it's the end of a day

so much has been

slowly accomplished

through each dream of a day

people are trudging

the child throws a rock at a glass

and inside the prison

he cries

for no one who comes

—they are locked away

in the TV set

someone is singing, someone is beating

a huge drum and flailing through

the frantic crowd—move faster

sing louder

it's the end of a day—we need

to wake up

and do our work: reviewing

all these days

to make the reports

that no one will read (Father says

I have read too much)

and somehow choose

our only choice: