White Walls, Straight Rows

All this education, 

and we were never taught to love ourselves.

Our knowledge was, instead, forced to be something else. 

Created in classrooms, within white walls.

Not allowing us to grow, but instead remain small, 

and meek, and lost, and void of desire.

Forcing us to loose our internal fire

by placing us into neat, straight rows,

And over planting seeds to the point where nothing grows.

Concepts and terms

so overused throughout history.

Whose definitive meanings have all become a mystery.

This isn't what we needed,

nor what we asked for.

Told to believe everything,

but what was it all for? 

Our lack of self-love has caused an epidemic.

But thats unimportant, thanks to academics.




This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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