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High
School [Original] Twenty-five hundred In space for fifteen White dust on everything From a floor never cleaned Bodies glancing off others Without a second thought Loud words, loud faces That’s me in the corner, distraught Twenty hours of work And forty tons of pride The project worth half my grade Lost in the blink of an eye So much depends upon [Unfinished verse] So this is high school? The best years of our lives Or so we’re told Along with all the other lies Life is forty-minute segments With five minutes breaks I’ve got to finish my essay Which is due by eighth Life is measured in points Sixty for my essay Minus ten percent For every day late The classroom is no place to learn The teacher’s words reach only my ears Too many thinking about the weekend And how to their get beer The girls fix their make-up Guys dream about a car They never grew past seventh grade It’s a wonder they’re allowed this far So this is high school? A grand education In conformity and Lack of imagination At lunch I sit alone At a table made for eight to ten Others walk around Looking for a chair to sit in No one in line seems to care That there are thirty more People in front of them Than two minutes before So this is high school? Where we spend our time Preparing for “real life” Learning how to fall in line top – original – discuss – poetry
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All original material © 2003 Erika Salomon.
