12 Years Ago

Twelve years ago, they turned the televisions off.
Twelve years ago, they refused to speak to us.

Twelve years ago, the class bell still rang.
But, they stopped teaching and we played guessing games.

Twelve years ago, we still changed rooms.
Twelve years ago, we walked empty hallways of middle school.
Because twelve years ago there were no instructions, no plans or rules.

Twelve years ago, my mother took me out of class.
Twelve years ago, she refused to speak to us.

Twelve years ago, she called our father in D.C.
She twisted our corded phone, waiting impatiently.

Twelve years ago, he came home and got on bended knee.
Twelve years ago, he turned on the TV.
Because twelve years ago, there was something we needed to know.