Not the sterile cinderblock walls, confining from eight to three

nor the sparkling sunlight hours lost forever

in the name of security

Nor the lethargy on faces, nor the boasts of procrastination

improvised, a lone pathetic talent

can extinguish the flame

No longer content.  College seen as Jacob’s dream

head laid against a rock, dreaming of life unseen

a stairway up to knowledge.

Prepare me with a grade, wing me away on a chickadee

I grasp it now in trembling hand

to fill the void ahead, my future.