Free At Last
Real education
starts
when the university
fades
in your rearview mirror
Its nihilistic
narrative
disappearing
in the mist
Umbilically
the ties
are cut
as light
comes rushing in
The wax of
dead
banal professors
— melting in the past
(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
👁 7💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.