White Waves

You give me a problem.

Tell me to solve it.

So I pick up my pencil.

And think.

And think.

But there's a bird outside

the window.

It has pretty blue

feathers

and a sharp 

yellow 

beak.

And there's a car

driving by, 

a shiny black

car, with

four white

wheels.

Snap!

The crack of the

ruler

on my desk.

You move me

away from the window,

hand me my pencil

again,

tell me to solve your problem

again.

So I think. Again.

But there's a sign 

on the ceiling

that says 'gullible'

and there are math equations

on the board

that look how I 

imagine my grandma's

thoughts must look;

jumbled,

nonsense.

Rip!

You tear the sign

off the ceiling.

Swipe!

Gone are the math

equations.

You move me to the detention

room,

hand me my pencil

and I think.

And think.

And think.

But the white walls remind

me of white caps on waves

and suddenly 

there is no place

like the ocean.

No place

like any place

anywhere from here,

in this room

of white walls

and pretty birds

and fast cars

and problems.