All I do is learn.
I’m sick and tired of learning.
What do I wish to do?
I want not to learn, but to do.
I want to discover.
I want to create.
I want to stop all the absorbing, and forgetting—
start giving, and remembering.
I want to make a change, not just in routine.
I want to impact. Not wait for the fall.
I don’t want to be the best of them all.
I want to soar, on my own accord.
Here I am, not boxed in, not at all.
I am roped down.
Yes, my mind is free to wander, to dream
But it’s a give-and-take scheme.
A sugar-coated plotting.
My life set on a one-track train
determined by a letter,
From the very beginning, I was drowned
within a crucible none other than life itself.
It is the illusion that as I grow older, I grow
Numbers are my love-hate relationship
Charting my course towards the end.
An end that sucks up—
All that is too imperative
This cinderblock-classroom teaches me nothing, don’t they see?
Eighteen years shut up in a dream
Where my pen shuffles across endless seas of blue lines
If I tell you how many times I have written the letter, ‘x’
You might just cry
quaking with laughter.
It is not the end of the world, they say
These days of youth are a blessing—for today.
I have not witnessed the gore-webbed flesh of soldiers, face-to-face
But I’ve seen thousands within the glistening pages of AP U.S. History.
So am I thankful to be locked up, here?
To cherish this hushed moment of solitude?
Of keyboard clicks and time bombs
crooked spines, fist-fights?
For all the hours I’ve spent finding the radius of Circle A
and tallying the deaths of truths, empires, and dramatis personae
I could have been lending a hand
to the blind.
I could have been saving a life
Lifting trembling fingers from a trigger.
My shoulders are strong, from carrying paper and lead
though my hands are scrawled all over with the dead.
With the lives I could have saved.
The tears I could have caught.
That grasp on adventure, that slipped away too, too fast…
Why even bother, wishing for such things?
Life is not a game to play, don’t you understand, love?
You may rebel all you like, my dear, but “I’ve saved lives” is not guaranteed
to make a dent in your
Suck it up, my friend.
You are never to be defined by a letter, number, or any photograph
Just your time.
See, the thing is
I know more than you ever could,
about the world.
But tell me, please, I beg of you—
what does life look like, outside an iron-barred window?
How could you survive, without a pyramid of text to keep you sane?
Calculations to stimulate your brain?
What’s a heart without a label?
Your ways confuse me, Freedom.
I already know, that wars don’t happen in other worlds.
I just choose to ignore them.
I could go on and on with this ramble.
Keep my book eclipsed beneath binder rings, pen moving at a generic pace
But the bell is about to shriek
for the hundredth time this year.
And I will have to move on
and learn about