When I get to be a painter, I’m going to paint a picture

of forgotten keys, locked doors, and doors left open

of battles against bullies in the ring, but fighting fair.

I’ll throw in deep colors,

crimson, blue, and yellow

green trees, the red playground,

the slide, the yellow pole.

I’ll paint a troubled picture of fights in school

bothering people, red blood in his face,

a swallow of Sprite

for better or worse, and moving on.