March 23 2011

March 23 2011

A Poem by Atosa

                                    It’s indeed a funny institution

                    people crammed into this building called school

                and as we walk down the corridors we state the obvious

                        “I’m so tired!”   


                                            “I’m glad the homework is done!” 

                          And in this world we’re constantly talking

                                        we even talk in our sleep

              cause silence means that we would have to start thinking 

                     and soon we'd realise that this hole is THIS big


                                 and if the quiet turns into a calm

                                        even just for a little while

       if our puzzled minds stand still 

                                         we would realize.. that this

                                                           is it 


                            cause the future we’ve been longing for

        it.....sort of is what it is

                              the future will never be the present 

    it’s like trying to catch a shadow while falling


                                         and THESE WALLS 

           they stink of anxiety 

                   cause what do we do when we’re finally out of here? 

                        It’s a constant chase and a constant battle 

           or a daily display of a happy face

                                   cause we..

                                                     ... we don’t see sadness 

       and we sure as hell don’t see pain


                                  we act as if this is our universe

             we act as if our grades are going to be burned on our skulls

                            and that a scientist will look at them closely 

                                   long long long after we’re gone

                                     we see no turning back

                                               see no light 

                         we say maybe this 

                            or maybe that

                       nothing is certain

                            nothing is sure

              with trembling legs we walk down the buzzing corridors

                       and we have this big fat hole in our chests

                        it’s either



or some other f*****g pain

                   but the SMILES, they’re still plastered on our face

                           it’s easier you know? to simply pretend...

                                     and since this is our world

                        the epitome of our seventeen year old lives

                           our eyes are closed to the world outside

    so lucky them who find a way out


                                                cause me

                                 I’m sick of this thing called life

© 2011 Atosa

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register


Talent, much?

I love how you describe
this with so much imagery.
Brilliance, "we act as if this is our universe
we act as if our grades are going to be burned on our skulls"
I can feel brutality in those words, it makes me smile.
So it seems, we all feel if we don't get an A or a 98
we won't live another day. Great write, as always.


Posted 13 Years Ago

Share This
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


1 Review
Added on March 24, 2011
Last Updated on March 24, 2011



Stockholm, Sweden


A cry A cry

A Poem by Atosa

4th of April 4th of April

A Screenplay by Atosa