Sitting in the schoolbench alone in this room filled with familiar unfamiliar faces Never talking always noise always watching very close listening to these speeches Bleeding my arms
insanity lies in the corner of this room and it crawls closer to me
tick... tick.. tick..
seconds aren't what they seem hours aren't real time is a illusion in this room
Only the ritual
pen on papper writing numbers writing letters that don't make words No drawings No poems Yes sir No madam
tick... tick... tick
Over and over again bell goes new place same ritual numbers letters no creativity is seen in here
alone I sit with my clasmates doing the same ritual that they call fun what they call