the damn yellow fairies
they don’t like the rain
or the snow.
they thrive in the sun,
but they keep you on your toes
by coming out on the less pleasant of days too.

they rarely are seen
in their yellow act
of dusting the unprotected.
but even sometimes
when you think you are safe,
they find you between the wrong colored lines
and leave their wretched yellow present
securely resting under one of your motionless arms.

Oh how I wished it had been blown away
by a gust of wind with tornado-like-strength,
or that a sudden small rain cloud burst over it
and melted away all the scribbles
making it soggy and irrelevant.

Or maybe some kind stranger
would just take it away
and grant me innocence by ignorance.
Oh damn you yellow fairies,
my wishes have not come true.

I rush around corners
nearly destroying my peers and faculty
in a path of destruction
searching for a safe spot to rest.
you fill me with such anxiety
and then call me a criminal.
but I refuse to pay up—
for the real crime is
the square footage of the parking lot.