It was...
Finding weaves in bathroom stalls,
not understanding why one would wear it at all.
Doing hours of homework each night,
and sleeping turning into such a delight.
Giving sharpies a new purpose,
obscene pictures on every surface.
Awaiting the classroom bell
as if we could escape from hell.
Language out of the curriculum
vulgarity was a habit to succumb.
Personalities slick and wild
eighteen year-old acting as a child.
Freedom in the sense of thought,
but given the limits of knowledge we got.
Encouragement to be different and us,
but required to be same and thus:
No one wanted individuality,
more confusing than what needed be.
A student that would give some sass,
was least or most favorite of the class.
Learning to forget about the past
is really what makes friendships last.
Public
school.
