The hallways act like red carpets that lead into a place unwanted.

My feet seem to take my body along a familiar pathway to a room I am assigned.

My eyes lead only in front of me, for I know not of where I am going.

My hands act like a doll that swings with every step I take.

What lies here?

People behave like zombies that don’t want to be talked to.

Cliches function like pacts of dogs that stare at you like a cat tiptoeing by; trying not to get caught in their teeth of lies.

My friends look at me as if I am family, but we never talked outside of this place.

Who lies here?

Days seem like hours of solitary confinement in a building meant for learning.

Months only pass by after the pep rallies and football games.

Years pass by to those who pay attention and understand their future.

What am I doing here?

I can not decide my future in this place, for it is built with heavy walls called grades and classes that you have to take. If you want to be a chef you must take history; if you want to be a musician you must take english. 

It only seems unfair to those who skip and take a long drag in order to calm their nerves.

Why am I here?

This building has twists after twists like a labyrinth of wisdom; but instead of wisdom we get chains and handcuffs with no keys for the future.

I seem imprisoned, but I know my future; but can I accomplish it in this place I call a prison?

What lies after?

It seems like soon my time will come to see the world, but I am scared.

I am scared that I will look down and see the chains have not been broken.

I am scared I will ponder things I should have been taught.

What are taxes? What are bills?

What if I am never taught these items?

Seems like I will never know how to be

free.