Song 21

a poem of vivid imagery, narrative depth, and a cohesive flow to capture the introspective journey of manhood…

I’ve been waiting for what feels like a lifetime, anticipating the moment when my turn will come.

I know it’s close now—the weight of it lingers in the air, pressing against my chest like a held breath.

Soon, my song will play.

It began long ago, an unfinished melody

layered with whispers of who I was meant to be. The notes—soft at first, uncertain—found rhythm in the echoes of childhood dreams, then sharpened against the jagged edges of time.

Each chord carried a lesson, each pause, a silence, heavy with meaning.

I sit here, still, the quiet broken only by the faint hum of a life lived just beyond my reach. The song I’ve waited for feels familiar, yet distant, like an old friend who knows too much. Its melody rises and falls, a bittersweet harmony of victories won and battles lost.

There is something to be said for the passage of time—a truth buried in the spaces between seconds. We are all guided by the songs of our lives,

not mere background noise, but symphonies of who we’ve been,

and who we hope to become.

The dissonance, the hard rifts—those are not mistakes. They are the warnings,

the wisdom we carry forward. 

By the time the clock hands meet,

when the hour strikes its final note, we must have learned enough

to understand the meaning of the music

that’s been with us all along.

Do you dare to listen to your own song,

to the truths it carries?

Or will you only hear mine—

a reflection of what you fear,

or perhaps what you long for?

I’ve been here, waiting,

watching as the moments stretch and fold into themselves.

The song began long before I understood its purpose.

Its rhythm shaping my days,

its crescendos warning me of struggles yet to come. I think of it often,

wondering if it still plays somewhere,

even when I fail to listen.

And when the clock hands finally meet,

will the melody be the same?

Or will time have rewritten it,

just as it has rewritten me?

Parent Teacher Meeting

"Mrs. ______, I am Principal ______ and I've asked your son's sixth grade teacher Miss _____ and two others teachers who know him to sit in. We've called you to this meeting out of concern over your son's behavior. He is unruly and disagreeable. He gives a cold and distant attitude to Miss ______ and recently refused to shake her hand even at my intervention and request."

Well, Principal ______, you've called me from home to join you all at the school today for this meeting. I have heard your concerns. Now I will tell you a story my son told me.

A year ago he returned from school and told me the class had been taken to the schoolyard for a short recess. His classmates were made to form two lines, where one student from each line would race the other to a wall before running back to tag the next runner. When it was my son's turn he now ran. Upon his return, student ______ and the boy he was to tag collided. Perhaps the boy was overanxious for his turn to run.

Anyway, they collided head first before falling to the ground. The point of impact for the two of them was my son's mouth to his classmate's forehead. My son said that both his teacher and fellow classmates  rushed to help student ______; asking if he was okay and helping him to his feet. The boy, who was white, had not suffered any bruises, but my son, 

who is Black, was bleeding from his mouth. According to him, one student,  who could see him holding his mouth finally asked, "What about  my son?" He then told me everyone just looked at him in silence before the teacher finally asked if he was alright. 

When I asked how he responded, he told me, "I swallowed my blood and told her I was okay."

Now I have no reason to doubt his story because my son is my son. And I know what he can and cannot do. At this age children still act according to how they feel. This occurred just one year ago, when my son was just 10 years old.  And what I have noticed from that day forward, is that my son moves as if the whole world is out to get him.

I want you to think about that and how you yourself, at your age, would feel. Now imagine how it must feel for my son who is still but a child.

***SILENCE****