Dealing With High School

Location

New Orleans
United States

Staring at the unpenetrable fortress before me,

I wonder if this is where I belong.

I enter the doors,

put my bags on a table,

and walk through the metal detector

like I'm a criminal.

When I get passed, I'm being inspected

told that my freedom of expression is meaningless.

my individuality removed.

just like all the others now.

 

But I regret to inform you that I'm not.

I'm the green thumb on the hand,

the light that leads you through the tunnel,

the one you will miss when I'm gone.

When it comes to me,

I won't be the one who's going to experience

this day in and day out,

so don't treat me as if I am.

I may be dressed the same now,

but this isn't the life for me.

 

Sitting through endless classes

where everyone thinks they know better,

eating sicking slob

for breakfast and lunch

waiting to escape this asylum

surrounded by people I'll never see again after this

wishing for the next stage

when the world expands beyond the pettiness

they seem so enthralled with.

GOD, I hate high school.

 

Who's worse?

the pretentious teachers that can't teach?

or the kids that don't want to be taught?

I think it's me.

for staying in an environment that won't help me.

but that's just adolescence.

The miasma of ignorance 

we breathe in like is oxygen.

When does it end?

GOD, I hate high school.

 

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