A barrage of verbiage: I’m the target as you take aim start playing the song of my pitiful symphony
“How are you going to get into college like this? What a shame.” Memorizing facetious and blithe, is this supposed to be a euphony?
Should I embrace the dictionaries stuffed into my brain the pen and pencils I clutch like feeble walking canes
the expectations I need to maintain the Sharpied math equations flowing in my veins?
Words like obfuscate and recalcitrant are a cacophony. These esoteric words, formulas, inked pages I want to set aflame
– let’s take a Molotov cocktail, let’s watch and see— but I’ll stand back and wait, try to stay sane
hope for the best, pray for a miracle, reach an epiphany because that’ll be a feat: and for my college essay I can claim
that I underwent a metamorphosis suddenly, one better than Gregor’s—I swear I’m not crazy—
and then maybe I’ll be able to relax, finally.