If I’m a walking lesson,
well, you never learned to read.
We waste away the hours,
you just take and take to feed.
You claim that I am guarded,
all traps and tricks to test,
but you charge ahead so reckless,
never slowing, never rest.
You bleed against my defenses-
spikes, blades, and trap doors.
Yet instead of asking questions,
you argue who hurts more.
If I’m your greatest lesson,
the one you won’t discern,
is it that you fear to stay here,
or to leave and ache, and yearn?
I've adjusted the lesson plan,
more times than I'd like to admit,
refusal to accept your defiance,
you're a hard habit to kick.