When I am given an assignment
I scoff inwardly.
The professor says
The project is due Thursday.
I know very well that she won't
Actually look at it till a month later.
A month later she'd accept it just the same,
So why put myself through this hell now?

Hell? You question me,
"**** it up and just do it, baby"
It's just some project.
Like all the others, relatively no effort,
It will take all of an hour to complete.
Then, it'd be over and done with.

Wrong.
It's Hell.
I stare into space, dreading the thought
Of lifting my pen to mark a sheet of paper just
Because I have to.
I could sit here for hours and write,
With the same pen, the story of my life,
The poetry that describes my innermost thoughts.

The same pen lifted for the assignment
Of someone else's creation,
Weighs down like the rock
Left behind after the cave's collapse.

The only times I've ever seriously considered,
Giving up.
The only times I've ever considered
Sleeping... Deeply,
Is when I am forced to lift,
One by one,
Each piece of rock, back into that cave's ceiling.

Sometimes when I've half finished,
I think that maybe,
If I shook the walls,
I could let it all cave in on me.
I'd never have to find my way back.

I walk into class,
Lay the sheet to rest
On the desk of it's judge.
Hardly notices my presence,
The granite dust on my eyelashes.

What do I get for my efforts?
Red pen, an "A".
My friends whine and moan,
"You didn't even have to try!"
Because I'm too smart to pay attention in class.
Too smart to actually study.
That I don't have to try.

They don't have to rebuild caves.