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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559184" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Their Hopeless Schools</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559184" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the school: <br>Echoes of bleach- pitifully superficial <br>Holocaust<br>Of adolescent fanfare the busses bring here: <br>Children come here<br>And they are lost- from class to class: <br>What brings them? They have no<br>Will to learn, <br>But they giddy up through the turnstiles<br>With youth to burn: <br>And I watch them matriculate from <br>Copper state to bronze- <br>The airplanes don’t even pretend to brush them: <br>The airplanes leap across the canals<br>These children don’t even think to leap across: <br>The greatest angels burn their <br>Fuselages across the milkweeds and the puss willows: <br>The pilots are taking their stewardesses into<br>The bosoms of the mountains, <br>Populated with wildflowers and honey due: <br>To make love<br>Far above the mindless heads of the children<br>In their hopeless schools of every afternoon.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</a></strong></div>

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