The classroom is my dungeon

Cold, stark, and bleak.

The desk is my cage

Restraining my mind’s reach.

I’m drawn away from creativity

Herded by the group

Who are too slow to move on

And do not care to.

All I wish is to paint this place

With passion and with thought;

To expand upon what others think

So my mind won’t be for naught.

I wish not to read,

But to interpret.

I wish not to memorize,

But to know because I’ve learned it.

This is why I turn

To my books and to my music.

I wish to take my thinking

And actually use it.

I like to envision my thoughts

Twisting, rising, curling

Like a colored mist

Riddled with creativity unfurling.

I search for ambiguity

In a room that is too stark.

I long for an avenue to show the world

The colors in my heart.