What is there happening outside?

I only know corners and walls.

I wonder if anyone can realize

I’m still there in classrooms and halls.

I’m told that I should get used to it:

“That’s life; that’s how it goes.”

I’m told that this happens to everyone;

We all have our highs and our lows.

Ought I promote what lies beneath denim,

Or become so bleary and cold?

I think that then they would accept me.

I should just do what I’m told.

What is there happening outside?

Is it over yet?  Are they gone?

I find there’s no pounding at my door.

Now they just leave me alone.