I turn my Rubik's Cube,
confused, baffled, wanting all the red squares on thesame side.
My thumb and index fingers are tired of twisting this
box in myright palm.
I'd like to splatter the small cubes
on top of each other
It's been a hard week
and I feel like the greensquare on the lower corner
and the blue one on the upper
both at the sametime.
Once I get all the colors matched
maybe my life can beclearer.
Bags underneath my eyes certainly don't help
Howcan I see anything obvious
when everything is falling in front of me?
It'sall exaggerated to a point that defeats
One row of thered squares matches but doesn't
fit the rest of the cube. Yellows,
whites,greens and blues, all complicated.
I flunked the math test.
Ihad the answer. He saw it and said
it was acceptable,
adequate to meet theneeds of the problem.
He marked me wrong, with no partial credit.
He tellsme acceptable is not always correct
and sometimes go with your firstresolution.
I had words I wanted to say to that man.
He knows I amsmarter than he is. Is this his way to show
who is on top?
My friendshave their backs to me
and I need people to talk to.
The Rubik's Cube isfilled with un-matching colors.
Velvet-purples, neon-pinks, moss-greens,Puritan-grays and coffee-browns
all taking the places of
anything thatremotely conforms to the other squares.
I feel one pace farther back than Iwas before.
This Cube is filling my life with animosity
and I want to breakit open
end the puzzle
and free my victory.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.