As We March on to Battle
Location
I hate how grades determine who we are
You have an F? “You're a failure!”
Maybe an A? “You're a star!”
We are nothing but-
Numbers
Averages
Scores
Everything else, the system just ignores!
We are each unique, amazing,
And we learn in different ways
But you sit us all down and scream-
“Get an A!”
If we don't, then you scoff and tell us-
“Try harder.”
So we stupidly listen as we put on our armor
But we're broken inside
Filled with the words-
“Not good enough”
And despite how much we hurt
You only see us as tough.
You make us your little soldiers that march to the field
A pencil for a sword
And our GPA; our shield.
As you sit back and laugh and lie through your teeth
“If you win this war, I promise you'll succeed!”
And those who fell in battle
You simply swept aside
Letting room for overachievers
Who were already dead inside.
And in the very end,
When the fight is said and done
You smile, shake our hands and say
“That was fun.”
You bow and say your goodbyes
And off you do strut
Leaving us broken
abandoned
And saying-
“Now what?”