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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