Ridiculous Ideas

Finally slipping from the sun's fingertips
Manufactured breaths cool my face
Definitely happy to be cooler,
but no necessarily in this place.

The moan and drone of the happy clones--
the ones in pink and the ones in black--
When I left last summer,
my mind wasn't on coming back.

But I had to come back to fresh white walls
and I will two more times.
I will follow the pattern painted on the floor--
the squares and the lines.

I follow the pilgrimage of the others,
and I find my very first class,
and I do this all day--to second and third,
and, finally, to last.

I go home and bury myself
in my new text book,
and for two months (until fall break)
I don't give personal creative writing a second look.

It's sad, because that's what I wanna do
with my time and with my life.
Oh well, for three more years, I'll continue on
in this joke of public school life.