Almost Through

My teachers speak their beliefs but

Feel the need the censor mine and

I feel that with every single line I write

The world rights itself, just a bit.

There are some days I wish I could spit, claw,

Hiss, scratch and turn my back on school but,

For those who know me and those who showed me 

The tools I need, for my mother and father who taught me to read, 

For my Eighth grade teacher who showed me my need to

Discover, become a passionate lover of art, to think, drink in 

Every bit of knowledge I could until my stomach was full.

This is for them, because without good men and women what would this world be

But an ember, drifting for the tree that we had in our backyard as a 

Child, where we whiled away hours staring at the sky and

Watching, talking to ourselves and surviving the little Hells of

Adolescence, where the lessons we learned writhed and burned their way to our souls

'Til they turned into fires which stoked our passions, built our

Goals and made our sadness seem as if it were the realest thing, a waking dream,

A nightmare we could not escape.

Made us feel as though leaping from the Golden Gate was our only option, but

Now I'm here, my senior year, I've made it, and now I've found love, laughter, and light

Was all around but it fell on deaf ears. 

And now, as if for the first time, I can hear its speech, its sweet voice longing for

Sweet release upon all those who have yet to join in and sing along.

For life is but the sweetest song, we've made it past the hardest years,

The angst, the drama, filled with tears so now I say this all to you,

Don't give up yet, you're almost through.