A week in and it’s feeling normal.

Empty and cold.

I stalk the hallways alone.

Unwanted contact.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Foot to knee.

We all silently plead.

When will it end?

We bite our tongues.

Forcing down our screams.

Choking on lost words.

Our eyes are empty.

Our souls are too.

They spoon-feed us facts.

And knowledge we’ll never use.

It doesn’t feel right.

But we’re wrong to fight back.

Work piles up high.

They don’t seem to care.

That all these knowledge and facts will go nowhere.