Born to be Different; Taught to be Similar
I am bored.
My life is nothing
But school work
And people.
The people only serve to make me feel lost in a sea of faces.
I am erased.
The color in my soul dulled
By rigid instructions
And a never-ending torrent
Of strict assignment guidelines.
I am drowning.
Here is an assignment.
An assignment. An assignment. An assignment. An assignment. An assignment.
No time.
The passions fall away one by one.
I used to love the arts.
My paintings sit in a dusty box,
My stories hidden away.
I have forgotten the imagination
That ruled my ballpoint and brush
I am the product of my education.
Groomed to deliver A's.
But when the assignments stop coming...
I raise my hand, I have a question,
Can creativity be regained?