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The Prison they Call School
This morning I awoke to a sound from my phone.
It screamed and it yelled that I had to get gone,
But my bed was like a cloud somewhere far, far away,
And I knew what my dreaded destination was that day.
The very word leaves a sour, atrocious taste in my mouth.
The very sound of it makes me cringe until my eyes pop out.
The very thought of it makes me want to kick, scream, and shout.
Is it really a school?
Or is it a place where innocence dies?
A place where creativity is squashed and you are fed lies?
Or perhaps it’s where dreams are crushed and left on the floor.
I swear to you all I can’t take it no more.
But I know what it is, I know its true form.
The name prison is correct, but it doesn’t fit the norm.
It locks up our childhood and throws away the key.
And unluckily for me, that’s the place I have to be.