The clock trudged on in a seemingly incessant, steady pattern. Tick, tock, tick, tock. It was mocking my urge to produce a sudden nervous tick, in an atmosphere of stillness. As the teacher reposed on their chair after a realization that it was impossible to have all students understand the material, they surrendered to the truth, and enjoyed the peace and quiet that followed. But, there was a feeling that closed in from the gray walls, a sense of overwhelming boredom. Gray walls, a faded white board, the strange odor of the white board markers that could be used as an inhalant were all present. How learning used to be fun.
Behind me, the class was asleep. The bunch, expressionless, their eyes shut, their pencils, physically present, but underutilized. The pencils being an unused conductor of thought from the illusive mind, to the physical document. The pencils were sad. These wonderful inventions made from the tree of knowledge now had been taken for granted. The apple had been forgotten and was instead seen as evil. Somehow, the magic had stopped. Our wands were of no use anymore.
Seeing that the walls of formal education were going to collapse on my restless mind, I decided to leave the classes before it was too late. I carefully got up, my pencil, a sword, and my notebook, a sheild. The battle had started. I inched forward, I had to keep my opposition sleeping. My feet gracefully, yet cautiously tip-toed, unharmed by the pressure of the situation that would result in freedom of mind, or confinement of the blank walls and blank stares and blank boards. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The drama built up, a battle that seemed unimportant was now at the fate of futurelearning. My hand was now on the doorknob.
A turn ninety degrees counterclockwise proved promising. The sunlight beemed down on me. Its entrancing energy engaged my mind. I quietly shut the door, and, at last, freedom had shown itself. I walked down the hall, the sunlight grew more intense. There was only one more door that would lead to the outdoor haven of knowledge. This door grew bigger as I got closer to it. I, once again, placed my hand on the doorknob. But then I heard a disturbance. I slowly turned my head back and a figure looked cross and glared at me. The piercing eyes stared me down. The devil brought me back to the prison with four walls, a living hell. The four walls surrounded me once more. After the final glimpse of sunlight, the walls collapsed. The clock now trudged on. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
© Copyright 2016 AdamMTrevelyan. All rights reserved.
Poem / True Confessions
Poem / Editorial and Opinion
Poem / Poetry
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