Next To You Poem by Tracy Morgan

Hey, it's me, I sit next you in Social Studies.
You're always really quiet,
And you seem very sad today…
like you are, everyday.
I wanted to ask if you were okay.
I like your bracelet…
Why're you flinching?
Are you okay?
Where's that bruise from?
Are you sure you just fell?

Hey, it's me again, from social studies.
Why do you always sit alone?
Does your dad pack you any lunch?
I don't… see you eating anything.
Also, that's either a hickey on your neck -
Or… is it… something else?
That… looks like a burn to my eyes.
Are you okay?

Hey, it's me, from social studies.
And…. also from your neighborhood.
I saw you. And your dad. In your house.
I wasn't spying or anything, but-
But I saw what you went through.
Please don't cry, I'm sorry,
No, I won't tell him anything, I promise!
I'm really, really sorry you're going through that.
Can you show me your welts? They must hurt, a lot.

I know you know my only from social studies,
But I think I need to help you out here.
We can get you away from your dad,
And he won't hit you anymore.
No, this isn't normal, dads don't usually…
wack their children with belts.
Or burn them.
Or throw them against the walls.