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Depression was gained
Brains were strained
As we enter the game,
We knew it couldn’t be the same

We were supposed to be anew
But we all knew
School is only a prison
Even though we listen

We have finally risen
Speaking about the feelings
Like the red roses
Blooming in the fields
Causing healings

School has been causing friction
So I use fiction,
To stop a restriction
So I wouldn’t let the tears glisten

As school ends,
I hope for a happier time
But I can get in line
As I’m not the only one
Who has been inflicted
And restricted
This is about my experience this year with school along with my general thoughts on school.Also is for a school project.
MARS May 25
The young lad
Studies through the dawn.
Sifting through pages
across the morning yawn

Wearily, he gazes through his glasses.
He tumbles somehow through the day
Trying, to understand the
Kinetic Theory of Gases.

When, oh when? Will it end?
His onerous rite of waking up
And studying, despite
Being worn out on the inside,

Keeps him afloat among the wreck.
When the world is sinking
Into an abyss
He is happy to just, be.

Yes he is,
To be on the verge of sanity,
To barely hold on to humanity,
To wake up, every morning.

For the situation outside is far worse.
While men lose their loved ones and
Moan in grief,
Happy he is; to study, and sleep.
This poem was written by MARS taking into consideration the pains of a student, who studies without knowing whether his exams would be held or not, who takes infinite pains to memorize the dreaded formulae just so he can score well, and set himself up in life. This is to all the students out there.
jon May 21
Over the years I’ve heard that when a person is up at 3 am they’re either lonely or in love
I wonder which one I fall under from the two choices from above
When it’s all said and done I planned the perfect day for us, we’re gonna have some fun
Suddenly I wake up it was just a day dream, you were right there about to be in my grasp, how lovely that would be
I’d listen to you all night, my hands tracing your body, feels like ecstasy, and if you let me I’ll explore and hit all the right spots
I love the way you play during the day, you’re such a good girl who does a lot for her people without a thought
You’ve been so good and I’m proud of you, do you know what that means? You get to indulge yourself with a little treat
Staying up all night with the bright night light so I can remind you there’s light in the darkness
There’s a fire inside me and I’m pretty sure you’re the one who sparked it

Laying in bed next to someone but still feeling alone while I’m a low key mess
I’m not completely alone because I have one of my favorite girls always with me, Mary Jane to ease the daily pain
I’m off on an adventure to escape my life, gain a new experience that feels right, and explore the earth’s landscape
I’m thinking of our memories in high school, I try not to let them get the best of me but it’s hard when I’m feeling lonely
I remember our first kiss, the way we used to reminisce, and the way you used to love me
We were young and naive, back then I really ****** up, I begged you not to leave me
I didn’t mean to hurt you so bad, I was thrown into the water early in life, I didn’t know how to swim so I was slowly drowning
I’m speaking metaphorically just in case you don’t know, it’s a comparison of how I wasn’t taught to love properly
Not making any excuses I just want you to see my perspective and retroactively introspect it
I’ve been opening up lately and I want you to know how much I’ve grown by going to therapy to take a break from life and reflect on it
We’ve both changed and matured since then but there are qualities of you that remain and they’re the ones I’ve always loved
I miss our walks, the way we would tease one another, I loved to kiss you in the pouring rain, sometimes biting your lip a little rough
I miss your lips, and holding your hand just because I can and the way we were there for each other when push comes to shove
I’m lucky to have crossed paths with you because sometimes I desire another chance and I have two left feet but I’d dance with you if you wanted me to
No matter what I’ve done you never think less of me and that’s one of my favorite things about you
The days where we would pull each other out of our sadness and straight into a kind of love madness
You’re one of a kind and a lovely distraction, when our eyes meet that’s law of attraction
I love everything about you I don’t know where to begin or even start, like my mom and dad, you’re my high school sweet heart.
rig May 18
i cannot remember how uncomfortable the chairs
at my highschool were – i just know that they must have been so.
all those science classes kept both my eyes on the window,
lost in dreams of different lives. i thought ‘nobody cares’
was a good reason to erase my problems – mine, not theirs,
no, ha! – so i went along with that life (emphasis, though,
on the li-e). that’s when i discovered the one way to go:
words. stories. a dim, slow lightbulb that caught me unawares.
first fearful steps turned to blog posts, then a fantasy tome;
short fiction gave way to poetry and recovery.
it took me years to know what to be floating on air is –
and now this broken english is what i call home sweet home,
imbued with the daily gift of a grand discovery:
that there are worlds still hiding from me in dictionaries.
I knew this boy in high school
Who thought he was amazing
His ego was his best friend
Arrogance with no end
He valued me as nothing
Thinking he knew everything
Everything means nothing
When your life is pretend
everything means nothing when your life is pretend
Andy Chunn May 3
It’s just a tiny village, a wide place in the road
The pace where life is steady and it’s slow
You find your comfort zone, no matter what the load
Campbellsville is the place I know

Brighter lights can call me, and travel makes me smile
And city life can seem like such a thrill
But nothing feels so easy, just like a country mile
As coming to my home in Campbellsville

When you find you’ve lost your way, and don’t know what to do
When everything is headed straight downhill
Think about the place you love, where everything was true
And come on home again - to Campbellsville

A little town in Tennessee, with history through the years
The Campbell home, the Springs, and the hills
The high school that so many loved, the victories of the Bears
I’m going home again to Campbellsville
Jeanmarie May 2
Life’s Next Chapter

Sometimes life pulls us away
From the ones who help us get through the tough days
The thought of being without them pains me to say
A part of me wants to give up my dreams to go away to school to stay.

I am worried that I won’t make friends
I’ll be lonely in this new place,
On my own and not knowing my way
The thought of leaving behind my loved ones
Terrifies me more than I’d like to say
A part of me wants to give up my dreams to go away to school to stay.

I am worried that making the move
Might end up being a horrible mistake
I’m not sure if I’m mentally ready
For what life may throw my way
The wonders of the unknown concerns me
I want my life to be on track without delays.

A part of me wants to give up my dreams to go away to school to stay.
Juliana May 1
Under a blanket of deadlines,
of exams proctored by a machine,
eye movements consistent
with a learner’s lie,
I found solace tonight.

I decided not to give a ****.

My computer remained unopened,
a calendar a forgotten application,
not a thought given
to the glare of a grade book.

My bed was warm,
the cloth of sheets and PJs
wrapping around my body like a hug,
hiding me from the ghosts,
shed from the television screen.
Ghosts that wiped my tears
after the hours of repeated drama.

While my sheets slept,
I opened a page.
No, not a page full of fact,
the monotonous monster
which is studying,
but a separate world.

I ceased to exist,
become one with a novel,
falling deeper,
deeper.

I won’t even remind myself
that tomorrow, I’ll have to work.
Back then at school,
We had life-skills-
Every week we would be taught, the girls,
Handicrafts by a gentle, lady-like woman.
They taught us macramé, well after it went out of style.
How to unravel and tie-up spools and spools of thread-
Into fancy knots and whirls.
You could hang it on your ceiling
Just beneath the fan, or over your bed.

Then there was the letter box,
Made out of cardboard and wrapping paper.
But not to hang outside, of course.
The glue would dissolve in the rain water.
And the letters would all cry out in jets of blue ink.

Speaking of ink, we made a miniscule brush
Out of old, old pens
And human hair.
It measured about four inches
And you could clean the ridges between tiles
With it,
or brush your moustache
if you had one.
The class was always there
You couldn’t skip it, miss it or play truant.
Life-skills, you will need them when you grow
And you’ll thank me when you flaunt-
Them to your cynical mothers- in-law.

Nipuni Ranaweera
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