Eight hours of mindless torture
on a little three hours of sleep.
I feel suffocated and alone,
in a sea full of children.
My body wrenches, I’ve puked and shaken,
but that doesn’t matter to the authorities.

It’s about grades and status.
It’s all about status.
Mother demands me to be "popular."
Grandmother regards me to be,
at the absolute finest,
The best in front of others.
"Friends"  insult pictures.
What I want doesn't matter;
My "status" must be as tall as a tower.

It’s all about status in a world full of lies.
So what if I sit here and shake,
all that matters is that I don’t fail;
it doesn’t matter if I die.