Twelve page Syllabus
I took notes on it
to reveal my sanity
to myself quietly
It then lead to a harsh critique
of a technique unrefined
Misleading the sheep
how they need to be lead!
Her Dad has schizophrenia
I have bulimia for and hour and ten minutes
every tuesday and thursday
Reading too much dulls thought
This much she doesn’t know
Assumptions when accompanied by
“most” never did fit me.
She has too many negatives
in her syllabus
It reads like a parent to child.
Don’t not study
Do not not take notes
Do not think
Memorize, catagorize,
Euthanize my thought.
Switch on the light
it’s time for an examination
My critiques run over through
the semester
no one cares anymore
As if they ever did to those
who worry about grades
and ask about them.
My questions
do not stop asking
and are not ever satisfied
Why?
There were too many things to
criticize and not enough self-criticism,
she will continue to think it right,
I will know better.
she misleads those into fear
I wipe away my tear
sarcastically waiving my hand
to force her to understand
she is a passing figure.
Someone needs to tell her.
Someone who has thought.