Born to be Different; Taught to be Similar

I am bored.

My life is nothing

But school work 

And people. 

The people only serve to make me feel lost in a sea of faces.

 

I am erased.

The color in my soul dulled

By rigid instructions

And a never-ending torrent 

Of strict assignment guidelines.

 

I am drowning. 

Here is an assignment.

An assignment. An assignment. An assignment. An assignment. An assignment.

No time.

The passions fall away one by one.

 

I used to love the arts.

My paintings sit in a dusty box,

My stories hidden away.

I have forgotten the imagination 

That ruled my ballpoint and brush

 

I am the product of my education. 

Groomed to deliver A's. 

But when the assignments stop coming...

I raise my hand, I have a question,

Can creativity be regained?

 

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