Okay, so you can officially say the S word now that I’m back to school. So here’s my quick update. School sucks. Okay so there’s your update. So here’s a poem that I wrote in Pre Calculus because I’m dropping that class.
The Boy with Square Eyes
He saw the world
Less like a sphere
And more like how it truly is
A cube, sharp edges, smooth and
Modern appearance, hard and
Cold, a box
His square eyes sorted
The world he let no circles
Pass into his soul, no triangles
Seeped in, even trapezoids were
Too deformed, squares were his
Business, and oh how he was
Good at business, I stood in his line
Of vision, begging him let my
Rhombus inside it’s nearly a
Square, it’s just skewed by the perception
Of the world, but his vision was
Perfect as was his mission
Only cubes, cubes alone are perfect
That’s all that goes through
He took only square refugees
No exceptions, the pretty and ideal
Ones who didn’t fuss
He didn’t save the others
There’s nothing worth saving there
He’d say, you’re wasting time
Yours and mine, get out of
My view, you taint my sight
His pretty portrait, he
Painted each day, but
He had no color to
Describe me, the cubed
Earth, perfection
We don’t fit in your perfection
Cut your angles then try again
Later, later they keep saying
Everyone will be acceoted later
When the squares are safe
But it will always be later
And never now.
-AcuteAnimosity
AcuteAnimosity 