"Waiting for the End to Come," Catherine Theodorou, Sixth Grade, PS 122Q

In a still room,
no smiles or smirks
escape the lips of anyone.
Sadness hangs on the walls
like an old photograph,
fading with age
Sinking down on a wearing couch cushion, someone speaks, and I want to climb back out to escape the room now full of grief.
I leave the room, shaking.
And the couch screams for me,
wanting me to come back and keep it company.
My sore eyes burn,
My dry throat tingles,
When I find out my grant Aunt is gone.