He waited on a round ball being spun in an hollow sphere in a circular motion only, it wasn’t for a sports team draft pick or heaven forbid a closed market for human trade. No, he waited on coincidence destiny and fate for his number, which while freshly assigned to him the system has always socially secured him as a number. So as the balances begin to weigh out with choice having as much of a chance as justice dealt by a blind folded lady he waited for his number to be called for the possibility of an education at the best school with the best teachers and whatever word you desire to put behind best except that, best doesn’t describe the situation he faces if his number doesn’t get called… the lottery.
This poem is from my new poetry book School Dad that was published today! You can order the book by clicking on School Dad or the actual picture below.