Listening to tales of Socrates and Plato
Our teacher lecturing us about essays and tests
I squirm in my seat, wondering when class ends, has forty five minutes passed yet
When will this end? When did it start? It’s hard to remember how long ago I stepped into the musty air of this stifling room
For now I entertain myself, daydreaming about my classmates.
Daydreaming is my specialty, other than school. I’m always
Thinking of the past and the future, while I should be in the present
Not worrying though, just trying to escape from the oppression of high school
I try to focus, even though my teacher’s voice beats my head back to my thoughts. Writing down tidbits of her monotonous soliloquy makes my head swirl—
Socratic seminar-- logical reasoning---poisoned by hemlock juice…
Well I’ve been poisoned by something worse than hemlock
Something called jealousy
My mind drifts to the boy from last year, sitting two rows from me
Bitterness boils in my heart when I think of the hateful memory that happened not so long ago
The other boy who severed our thread of friendship sits next to him
They snicker together, study and share notes
Once they were friends of mine, now they’re just names and faces I don’t want to see
Maybe they jeer at me and think of me with disdain behind my back
I should know, I’ve been stabbed lots of times
Or maybe they even forgot that I exist
Do I care? I can’t deny my brewing anger, but I don’t want to care
Because that’s just the way things are and nothing I do can change it
I seem to be the only unhappy one in the room
Even the dying weeds I see through the window seem to be in a better mood than me
Swaying slowly in the cold wind, like they’re slow dancing and the howl of the air is the music
My mind moves to the boy sitting halfway across the room
Does he think about me? What’s going through his head while he taps his pen and stares down at his notes?
My head is overflowing with unanswered questions, a flood that will rush to my mouth
Questions I’m sure he’ll answer along with some of his own
One glimmer of hope in this dark world, one thing that’s in my control
The teacher’s monotonous voice thuds against my ears
How many minutes until the bell rings? Only five more
Stare at the clock, pressure it into moving faster
But nothing I do can change its course because
That’s just the way things are.