You know?

Poetry has never been my thing.

Math?

Science?

Hell, even music?

Those I can handle.

Being stuck

in an english class

with 25 other

unwilling

participants, never 

I mean NEVER

sounded fun to 

me.

I could write to you all day about the facts on

Feminism.

Racial Injustice.

Cell Reproduction.

But my feelings?

Those are mine and mine

alone.

When other entrants will write you about

Love.

Beauty.

Maybe even violence.

I am just here to tell you I have a

seething hatred

for english.

This entry? It is entirely because

if I don't raise enough money

My entire college dream goes

poof...

I have always known-

I

Am

Poor.

And that college was a far fetched idea

without huge amounts of help.

So I worked and worked

and worked.

I got into Early College,

a program for those who need an extra challenge in high scchool.

But I did not do it for the challenge-

I needed the two years of free tution.

I graduated with an Assoicates of Arts before I finished high school.

Impressive?

Not to the loan boards. 

My sick parents do not qualify to cosign a loan for me .

Nor does myextended family.

So unless someething drastic happens.

My dreams

will

go

poof...