School

We all day sit in little rooms

with our robot brains

taking in and putting down

everything you say.

 

Posters crowd on every wall, 

and stare into your soul

telling you what to eat and think

and how to wear your clothes

 

windows are barred and doors are locked.

there is no escape.

the droning tells us when to leave

and when to return again

 

secconds pass both too slow and too fast.

must we really waste them here?

can we please go outside or run around,

or are we ever chained to desks of brown?

 

people are bitter, life is cruel

Fun is nowhere to be found.

How are we supposed to live,

If in school work we drown?

 

Must we always stay here,

Slaves to our own brains?

Can we escape our dreary mundane?

And, really, if we even did,

 

Would we ever be the same?

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country

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