Saturday, March 17, 2012
Six years of silent screaming protest,
So much time and contemplation,
Fruitless, pointless contemplation,
Raging against her domination,
My thoughts a raging conflagration,
Too angry for peaceful meditation,
The nearing end no consolation.
I dared to dream I was the best,
Had plans of art, beautiful creation,
Visions of nebulae and constellations,
Wonder at life, determination
To be no longer hidden in dark vegetation,
Personal development and amelioration
Would be the fruits of my dedication.
But in grey I sit amongst the rest,
Devoid of any inspiration,
Furious at her accusations,
Thinking about her emulation
Of terrible leaders of totalitarian nations,
This prestigious centre of education
And its rules the sources of my vexation.