Hornbeacon High

The building is white,
ivy eating its way up the broken walls,
windows small
and scratched.

Most students are
pulling at one another and squealing,
basking in their easy friendly reunions.

But I
study those
who are alone,
at the edge of this noise,
the kids holding their school bads close,
keeping their eyes down,

so I can 
impersonate their
invisibility.