I find myself getting lost within the concrete that is cold and cold resigned to white walls while the worth of my words are measured in glass flasks there is no soul here after allΒ Β and I will soon grow used to the blank stares of mirrors the hardness of science
this time memories of the sky will not save me at all from such a fate
This was the first poem I wrote as my reaction having transferred from an arts high school to a ******* science school.