Why We Fight

I sit inside our little white box room

Without windows, inhaling the mold.

My classmates and I are filled with gloom,

As the arctic AC makes us catch cold.

We beg and we plead for funds we need

To afford to go to competition,

And yet we are overlooked to feed

The greedy sports ever failing mission

To win, to beat, to shred other teams.

All we wanted was to buy costumes

And to fulfill our creative dreams.

Instead, our school just sits there and grooms

Their precious losing football crew,

Rather than their champion drama troupe.

Tell me now what makes more sense to you?

Why are sports still the most important group?

When we refuse to fund the arts,

We all grow up without our hearts.

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