—Tense bodies sprawl across couches
         and backpacks
tossing and turning but
keeping a safe distance

from the other
         wearied zombies
who type words dictated to them by

—teachers, parents, college websites
          and media.
Red eyes populate the government mandated
          torture that functions
as a prison for the future world leaders,

artists, and desk jockeys
          —teaching them how to cheat, steal and lie
while upholding their honor codes
by policing for phones and dress code violations.

Drugs, alcohol, tears and punches are the
          survival methods of the new wild animals
that have taken over the high school savannah.

—There is no more schoolyard.
          Just a jungle that
90 almost strangers and I got dropped in
without a machete.

.     .     .

I seem to have fallen prey to my own weaknesses. I preach justice and redemption of our ideals when I watch myself compromise them in conversation and action. I am impatiently waiting for the change that has been marked on my horizon for as long as I can remember but I seem to have forgotten whom I dreamt of being. I have become the zombie I feared who sacrifices creativity and integrity for grades and acceptance.