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Oct 2017
They crowd us in hallways,
arrange us in chairs;
we're sheep for the killing,
brains for the mix.
We're all brainwashed idiots,
slaves for the few.

We're sat in long tables,
and fed tasteless meals;
just as prisoners do,
except theirs is edible.

We're given false hopes,
and stuffed with fake promises;
still we believe them.
We call them professionals,
yet they call us novices.

They're killers of art,
of music and poetry:
Our talents they drown,
to make us all equal,
and our compensation,
is a cap and a gown.

But once in a while,
when a free spirit is born,
they accuse him a rebel,
a free spirited fool,
they abuse him, and use him,
till he's cut up and torn.

Still we smile and bark,
like the sad dogs we are.
But does nobody see this?
What's been done is a crime,
a ******, a sin that took time.
The accused and conviction:
It is the school that killed the nation.
- JP DeVille
Written by
- JP DeVille  M
(M)   
953
     trf, Cné and rose
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