Staying Alive in High School

Staying alive in high school starts with the grades.

The hard worksheets the teachers have made.

Don't do the work and you fail, you stay back.

Do the work and move on to harder concepts to grasp.

And then trying to fit in.

You get good scores and you feel sore for all the ones you have surpassed.

You refuse to do it and you'll never make it through it.

It's a balancing game, that won't balance out.

And sleeping...

Good luck with your dreaming.

September through June is nothing but hundreds of papers rustling.

Wake up from nightmares of tests to be taken.

Don't you dare close your eyes too early at night,

You'll awake to the buzzing of clocks telling you it's time

to be faced by the face telling you "you won't make it."

Work is late, but you got your eight hours; worth it?

And when report cards come, and it's time to show your parents.

All the "yes mother, I've done my homework,"

and "no father, I haven't been slacking,"

all comes to the surface and your lies can't hide

from the comments that're written

by the devious teachers that never seem to listen,

but I guess rightly so as your lies have been lies

and it's as if they read the truth in your eyes

"I fell asleep before I completed the only task to be completed"

but who cares, it's just high school.

Well I care, and so do the others,

just not about the same thing as the overachievers.

The clothes you wear shows what you dare to do in life.

They come in like they just got done working the corner

and I wonder if they don't have anyone who cares of their future.

The things that are seen don't want to be seen by me,

but as long as they get attention

they don't care if they get detention

for their shorts being too short

or shirts showing the dirt of their lives.

And dare you be different no one will listen

to a word you say as for "I am different,

I won't be belittled by 'boys will be boys'

who look down at my cleavage,

but dare I be different and I am ignored,

since the wardrobe I choose will never please all."

And the peer pressure.

Am I less cool because I don't party?

Because I don't drink, and because that's not a part of me?

And my life's not like a rap song because that's not what I want to make of me,

but okay, I'll apologize, I'm not perfect

and I've been some places I shouldn't’ve been.

But my regrets are something of a lie, they're not all mine.

All the 'you made me do it'

and 'he made me take it'

it's messed up but it's unavoidable.

It's now, it's here, it's the choices I made,

and I made it willingly,

just with some advocating.

Which leads to the other part of it all,

the substances, the drug abuse, the whole nine yards.

The he-she-we said we'd do it.

Make a day of it.

Try and avoid it and you'll hate yourself for it.

So why not?

Because you know it's wrong.

But maybe not, it'll be just one time.

'But what if I can't-'

'-no, you'll be able to stop.'

Until you can't, and you're hooked, and the inevitable shocks.

Addictions are addictions.

You realize you're not as strong as you think,

and you're going down the same route that you said you'd never take.

And your friends.

I've had the same few for awhile now,

but I look around at all the people

making their way around the different cliques.

I feel badly for them not having someone really there for them.

I would offer up my friendship but I know they can't be trusted.

Once you've got a number of people standing by you,

you talk behind one of their backs and soon you're only enemies.

I've watched it happen;

I've got a few friends and that's what I'm good with.

I don't wanna be one of those

'I've got a hundred pennies' people

when I still have my four quarters.

Procrastination.

It kills me.

Not even metaphorically.

I swear it'll be the death of me.

Get a project weeks in advance,

don't do it until the night before it's due,

or overdue,

or until it's handed back.

I guess it would be easier,

maybe even bearable,

all the projects and assignments and miscellaneous "do that's,"

if I just did everything when assigned,

but what's the fun of that?

That'd be easy...right.

Anxiety.

Where to start.

Headaches caused by mistakes.

And lazy leads to low grades.

And breakups give us heartache.

While our weight gets us low rates.

And stressed out makes us bloodstained.

And gym class gives us stomach pains.

But you can make it through it.

Everyone's gotta do it.

Schools just the start of life

and we all have to face it.

Quit letting it all get to you,

just keep on pressing through.

Teachers will guide you to do what you desire,

but it seems like all they want is for you to aspire higher,

than what I'm made for.

Either push me too hard or hold me back; choose one.

'Oh, you wanna be that?' That's not a good career.

Discouraging me isn't in their job description,

but it's okay, I know I'm a lousy mathematician.

I even try and suck up in the beginning of the year.

But by the second quarter it stops sounding so near and dear

when the "hello Mr. or Mrs." starts to get old

you know you're about to start that whole

"you're on the brink of failing" flow.

Well okay, at least you've got new ones every year.

It's only forty-two minutes, you can take it tried and true.

Your confidence takes a toll.

No matter how much you smile your self-rating's in the soul.

Everyone struggles with feeling how they should,

but don't beat yourself up about qualities in your blood.

You are who you are and that's all that matters,

I won't say you are perfect because everyone's a little tattered.

It happens; it's life; it's high school.

Don't beat yourself up.

Don't go with the flow.

Don't be that person on the wrong side of the road.

Don't hate yourself over something you can't change.

Love yourself, live a little, and don't let people in your way.