Drifting Mind


All I hear is speaking in a monotone voice,

sitting here with my elbows crossed 'cause I have no choice.

My summer days were filled with sunshine and carefree living,

while sitting in this classroom gives me a chilling.


Why do teachers always tell me what to do?

I doubt it has anything to do with "for your own good."

Why can't I study something that I actually like? 

Like painting a portrait or riding a bike?


Im sitting here listenening to wars that took place in history, 

but in reality I am wondering why my lunch was labeled "mystery."

I want to tell my teacher about the flickering light,

but in all honesty It's not worth the fight.


School is now over and I can go home and rest,

to play games...no. To study. Because I have a test.





Guide that inspired this poem: 


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