Hours of a High School Student

5 A.M. 

                The alarm clock goes off

like a fire alarm

waking me from my dream state.

                I stumble through the labyrinth

                gathering my stuff and getting dressed. 

 

7 A.M.

          The school bell blares

          through the speakers

and I groggily walk to classrooms

of boring beige, whispering white

                to learn math, science, english

                parabolas and similies and stoichiometry

Which I’m supposed to believe will be needed in my “future”

 

12 P.M.

             And there’s a rumbling

in my stomach, an ache in my brain

But I can’t focus on that

because I’m thinking of

                                due dates

                                quiz scores

                                GPAs

How school is a competition

                preparing me for “real Life”

                as if the first couple years were a free trial.

 

2 P.M.

            I stumble home, a zombie

with new assignments

                unanswered  questions

                a boulder on my shoulders

exhaustion carries me upstairs

 where unwillingly, I pass out for the next couple hours.

 

7 P.M.

                Procrastination sets in

                and I waste time

And I can’t focus because my mind

               is r u n n I n g planning out projects

                                                            essays 

                                                            study schedules

But then the anxiety kicks in

                and I start my homework

                because I literally cannot fail

 

12 A.M.

                  And I’m still awake

mentally drained, hand cramping filling out

                                                worksheets

                                                outlines

                                                chapter notes

   Eyes droop but I have to fight it

          because not finishing would mean

                            an “F” for failure

                            jeering out at me, taunting me on my transcript

It’s too much and I’m stressed, depressed, considering my options

But none of that matters because all my life I’ve been taught that no one really cares unless it’s

                                                                                         typed up

                                                                                         double spaced

                                                                                         12 pt

                                                                                         Times New Roman font

 

2 A.M.

                                                                                                               

And I finally go to sleep

 Thinking of that test that is coming up soon

      And how my grades will look on college applications

                  Dreading the sound of the alarm in a couple of hours 

                                         forcing me awake

                                           just to go through the motions

                                                               All Over Again;

 

                                                

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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