vinylhoarder

(Literally sitting in school with nothing to do...)

Fingers strumming along the desk
Waiting for teacher, quite grotesque
To end his speech, which is quite stretched
Which all his students think is far-fetched

The bell must ring, to keep the rhyme
Of days gone lost, it’s such a crime
To spend it all on worthless crap
The teachers; all they must entrap

The minds of all that blossom and grow
It’s been this way since a long time ago
Evil Conspiracy took away Imagination
But to adults and teachers, it’s just education

Made to prepare young souls at best
When they fly over the Cukoo’s Nest
So in this widely spread generation,
Their life dispatched at graduation

Become doctors, cooks, defense attorneys,
Their life really lost in waiting journeys
Of Preparatory, Grade, Middle, than High,
All they’re good for saying, “One small fry?”

If kids only had a few years of school,
And studied hard; not made a fool
We might have that old generation
That didn’t rely on TV stations

That truly decays brains we hold
Waiting for our soup to get cold
With single clicks of remotes, in the end
It has become our only friend

The world today; brainwashed to believe
That all that is good can be achieved
With a beep from that or a click from this
Imagination never travels to the oceanic abyss

So just remember, when sitting alone;
Don’t be so quick to be all grown
Imagination’s the key, to a tolerable degree
Remember this and you’ll succeed.