Dear Teacher,

You're standing up there talking

and the hands of the clock keep moving

and I'm watching the dull dance your words perform,

lulling my wandering mind to my favorite place.

And you tell me that's wrong. 

You try to cheoreograph my sporactic thoughts and refrain my unfuly ones,

because you will be graded on the conformity you create.

Life swims before my eyes in the moments before you make me

push it to the back of my mind.

Days, weeks, months of trying to match who's around me-

and I try to find freedom at home,

but you follow me there and the echos of 2+3=5, 6, 7, 8

exhausts my brain.

My own thoughts hide scared in the corners trying to avoid chastisement.

Questions choke me and opinions torment me because the answers are always the same

And I cry because you tell me it will never change

you tell me college will be worse.

So, teacher, to be completely honest,

the best lesson you could give us is Life.

Sincerely,

A suppressed student.