Making the Grade

Year after year of brain-stretching agony
Bending the limits of tempered endurance,
Tables and intos and plus-minus posers
Til X becomes Y becomes, magically, Z.
 
Long-winded tales filled with dates and dead people
Wasted on battlefields far, far away.
Stories of Camelot, Sherwood and Hannibal
Camped beneath bed sheets with flashlight in tow.
 
Cries of rebellion for useless assignments
Fall on deaf ears, go completely unheard.
Oft being quoted, “Oh, you’ll thank me later.”
Though never quite clear when this “later” occurs.
 
Days wrought with dread of those sheets lined with questions,
Problems and essays and multiple choices.
Waiting for marks through unbearable agony,
Never quite sure…
Never quite sure…
 
Time marches sideways through twelve years of prison,
Forced into labor til all due is paid.
Finally, time boldly steps to the future,
Silent and thankful for making the grade.
 
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