Corrupted (P)

Awakened,

 a while after dawn 

...and I am face to face

with my innocence.

For three-fourths of a second, 

I am just a spirit - enclosed 

in my assigned vessel 

ecstatic that I’m whole.

Then every day begins with similar routines:

Walk, Walk, Sit. 

Walk, Talk, Stop. 

Think, Go, Breathe. 

Talk, Sit, Walk, Repeat.

There is no time to focus.

I almost always land in the 

same ticking tapping time-bomb 

where I learn to think 

like a bee and live like a butterfly.  

Someone decided to call that bomb school; I call it corruption.

It can’t be right for a child to spend 

more time in a building than 

inside the world it’s supposedly growing up in.

Has it always been that we children 

should learn Shakespeare’s 

“A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come.” 

before we learn what road we’re on? 

Or am I just insane.

“School” has become a social experiment; 

a reality TV show called “Survival of the Fittest”.

A cash house used by textbook 

diploma wearing figures who 

stuff the manufactured knowledge 

along with bias shaped perception

down our throats every day 

in the form of a school lunch. 

While they vacation and feed 

their fantasies paying away their 

chosen debt with our tax dollars 

oblivious to the diamonds on 

the sidelines swimming in the 

Kool-Aid because we can do 

nothing more than 

walk, walk, sit. 

Walk, talk, stop. 

Think, go, breathe. 

Talk, sit, walk, and repeat.