Inspired by As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden
As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky Thinking about the week to come Will the days be remembered, or rather wasted and forgotten? Each tired child thinks the same thought.
Sunday nights slip into Monday mornings Mondays slowly become Tuesdays; Yet somehow the days become one Each tired child unable to differentiate each day from the last
Wake up, brush teeth, brush hair, repeat. Math, English, read, write, factor, and repeat. Return home, work, eat, sleep and then repeat. Each tired child thinks, “Is this really living?”
Stuck in a labyrinth of concrete Routine forces every move Taunted by the warm blanket left behind, only to leave a blanket of papers Each tired child stares at the ticking clock.
Thoughts interrupted by bells at the same time Routine consumes every thought Each indistinguishable day Where each child struggles to lift heavy eyelids.
Same faces seen every day Same places seen every day Weeks blur into months, which in turn disappear in the minds Each tired child fights every robotic move.
Closing doors and opening books The teachers scream and roll their eyes Where thoughts aren’t thoughts unless they are in Times New Roman Each tired child strives to be heard.
As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky Thinking about the years to come Routine is inescapable while spontaneity is a distant myth dreamt up in the minds Of each tired adult who forgets what it’s like to be a child.