you see it
out of the corner of your eye, during a study hall
the white crinkles look atrocious against
the cream cabinet.
black bold face words scream silently from the dancing sheet
lifting from its taped post on the side cabinet wall.
the silent paper sentinel seems to regard you as you pass.
it holds a certain gravitas
blaring its potent message with only a cynic sigh
it strikes you how much certain words can feel
like you could pluck them off the page and feel their weight
as they sink into your skin and soul
there are other words on the page
but there are seven that seem to read themselves to you,
whispered into your ear from a small child with a large secret
you cannot be both young and wise.