There's aching backs and dampened clothes
And sleepless nights pull at countless eyes
Words muttered through rusted locker doors
Slammed shut
Words that can't help but be heard

And hot angry voices chip at young minds like axes to ice
All racing to claim such a hollow little prize
Five days turn to haze
Then come weekend,
Drank away.

Because it's not about learning, is it? Not anymore.

It's about getting an A.