Contemplations on the Human Condition: A.k.a. Why the AP Literature Test Sucks

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The clock is set in concrete
black, and I’ve received
a very detailed invitation.
There is no going back now…

Fetters manifest: those
Ill-fated excursions
Must come to an end eventually

It’s just telling me when.

I’ve never longed for ambiguity
More in my entire life.

Yes, I’m free to roam about,
But I drag the chains with me
And every so often they clang
in reminder.

It’s hard not to hear their merciless drilling.

How can I wander freely?
My ventures are spent with constant
Looks over the shoulder— half-hearted
Perusals of the human condition.

And it’s that recognition that gets me.

I know when ticking hands will still,
I know the exact hour I’ll be dressed to the nines—
I can’t feign ignorance.

Memento Mori. How can I forget?
I’ve already RSVP’d.





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