Three rings turns into four with razors of sound relentless against the stygian room,
You’re consumed by the predawn darkness as that damn blare resonates inside your skull,
Shredding your nerves with a poignant reminder that today,
Today you have to dismember your skewered sleeping schedule,
In favour of a routine consistent to avoid fatigue.
Your mind floods with images,
Concrete walls, textured floors, cramped desks,
Seven hours of knowledge you’re supposed to cram,
Cram into your head and save, save, save,
Save until the end of the year,
When you regurgitate it back onto a test.
By now, the alarm is silenced, but you still hear it,
Inside your head abuzz with thoughts,
Who gained weight, or who lost it,
Who has dyed their hair, and who got taller,
Where will I sit at lunch, and is Stacy still the school slut?
It’s dreary, you think, these thoughts,
Thoughts of school.
Trust me, friend,
I know this as well as any.
My last year of high school has hit my like a ton of bricks,
And the only thing I can do is to sit back and wonder,
Hmm, hmm, hmm.
Because I, for one, have never been one to like school,
Too many people, too much useless knowledge, too much stress,
Too many subjects, too many this, that, and the other thing.
But this year, I told myself, this year,
This year will be different than the last,
And any year before that.
Why, why oh why, is this
This year, out of all, going to be the one to be
It’s all about perspective.
Let me tell you about a little something,
A little something the preserves my sanity,
That brings a smile to my face,
That fills me to the brim with joy, joy, joy.
These words I’m producing,
From behind the keys of my keyboard,
From behind an LED screen straining my sparkling hazel eyes,
From behind my thoughts.
I spill my soul,
I vomit my feelings,
I engage in an activity more passionate than making love.
Here, behind my laptop screen,
I tell my stories,
Crazy tales are created in my mind,
Cathartic music will flood my ears,
And I will sit in this position,
Straight back and trained eyes honed right in.
And I will write,
Write, write, write all my feelings,
Pump characters I know and love full of my raw emotions.
Angry, happy, sad, neutral,
You name the emotion,
And I’ve written it down.
This school year is my last,
And arguably the most stressful thus far.
But as long as I have my keyboard keys,
My LED screen,
My trained eyes,
My vivid imagination,
And my passion.
As long as I have that,
I have peace.
I have joy.
And the grim, weariness of the school year,
Can wear on me,
But it won’t break me.
As I spill my soul,
And smile wide,