The old, dirty classroom.
Eyes bright as day.
I walk down the halls
Children molding like clay.
Happy and gay.
Schoolhouse on the hill
In the grass
The dead lay.
Fought for what?
So we could obey?
No. Get out of the way.
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Author:
Screaming goat (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 13th, 2021 15:50
- Comment from author about the poem: I feel like this is the only way I can describe society. You can picture this however you want, however. If you want to, you can also post what this means to you in the comment section. This could help me know what other people think vs. what I think it means.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments1
more power to you!
Taking ownership of your life
at such a young age is no easy feat
most, just go along
with the maps, their parents drew-up..
try to find an escape
refuse that sensation, of
its you against the world
it really isn't
it's just you And the world
up to you: to curate it
the way you want..
(thanks for sharing
your image matches your words really well)
Thank you so much! I will try to take that into consideration in my future poems.
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