Holding my breath.

Is this life or death?

The professor smirks and hands out the test

Does he understand this is theft?

Stealing my time as a child now,

Working so hard to make others proud

 

This is it, where my life begins

In the end I can only hope my face will grin

Countless hours, with the pen in my hand

Trained to make lines and illusions, all so grand

 

With each passing minute, I wish for the past

Why did I choose to grow up so fast?

Always wishing for the newest responsibility

As my classmates longed for the newest festivity

Where did it go? All that time as a child?

Eighteen years of play, why does it seem so mild?

 

Perfection engulfs my every action

Holds me to standards, an endless contraption

Jealousy fumes from their ugly faces

Angry at me for how their project places

“Why work so hard?” They all sneer

Maybe if they paid attention, it would be more clear

 

After one success, “Another!” they continuously cry

Why is it on me they rely?

No second chances, one is all you get

One mess up sets up a life for regret

“Mind your p’s and q’s!”

“Pay attention to every cue!”

Maybe if they paid attention, it would be more clear

But then again, this way, they do not interfere

With my dedication

Determination

Toleration

Frustration

Breathe. Now the semester is almost to an end

But then, you will need to prove yourself again

To the professor, classmates, and yourself alike

Do they see this mess? This cycle of life?

 

Maybe if they paid attention, it would be more clear

All this is, a political sphere

Who can succeed the demands provided?

So many it leaves desperately divided

 

Last four years of childhood

Or the Beginning of adulthood?

This. Is. war.

And then I pass one last escape door

I have decided. May my life begin.­­

All this work must pay off in the end.