The Makeover

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Sit up straight, chin up, eyes straight ahead.

I feel like I'm in a pageant instead of a place of higher learning.

I've been here only a few months, but at times my spirit is filled with dread.

Since the prestige of the university cannot stop my yearning.

It can't quench my thirst for the ability to be myself.

The opportunity to spread my wings and fly in whatever direction I please.

The chance to release my frustrations and scream, holler, or even yell,

but that wouldn't go along with the university's needs.

To be able to survive here one must be able to hold their tongue, hide their emotions.

Can't go around all day making commotion, even when it's needed.

Even if half of the campus is conceited.

Even if the teachers are under paid and overworked, 

which causes us to endure the stank looks, the nasty attitudes, and the impatience that they give.

Acting like we control their salaries.

Something's gotta give!!!!

If I had to say one thing to my teachers truly from the heart,

it would be if you don't love it, then just leave it behind,

cause the misery it causes puts all of our spirits on the line.

Either that or suck it up the same way that I have to.

I mean they pay my tuiton, room, and board the same way they give you your check.

We're both slaves to the dollar and the power that it holds.

That means that either we can be cared for and fake or broke with our souls.

I've picked to endure the makeover for the next four years so I can make myself a success

and no matter what your decision I wish you the best,

but if you do decide to stick in there and endure

we can get together and compare our makeovers,

and see if we still feel pure.

 

 

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