Feeling the pen on the page, ink flows seamlessly
Over and over without a thought to the meanings
Remembering the lessons of childhood
The lessons they ingrained alongside colors and cursive script
Helpless to the words engrained on the blackboard, we wrote
Experiencing the pain and the passion behind each intricate letter
Seeing patterns and sounds emerge in severe clarity
Asking how this would be important later, innocent.
Knowing not what awaited us in the future.
Endless stacks of infinite assignments 
Overwhelming some, there they fell and there they stayed
Forever separated from the world that others moved into fully
Welcoming words and stories, intertwining their souls together
Realizing magnificent works, other merely casting over the occasional glance
Ignoring the beauty, only using it for harsh realism and cacophonous facts
The enemies of the immortal word, hammering out colorless voids
Interpreting til in memoriam lay the work of artists, a travesty to be sure,
Never realizing how much they were missing by the mile, trying so hard to understand
Getting further from the answer with each attempt to glean their sacred knowledge.