At the end of the school year, obnoxious amount of stuff come home. The lockers are emptied, the desks are cleaned, supplies are collected and schoolwork is shoved into bags to be brought home. The stacks of notebooks, graded worksheet and journals, that come in fill the entire counter space and tabletops. I sift through it all.  Amongst that stuff this year I found two things written by my son. One was a letter in his creative writing journal, the other was his final exit poem from his 5th-6...