Volatile Angst
The tip tap of the pencil makes my mind go frenzied.
The elongated feel: white walled and windowless.
Strategic rows of somber students
catechisms holding them to their small cells.
The savage soul retching, resisting, yet longing for rebellion.
Every captain demands control, flick and swish.
Diligence, dauntlessness, and valiant bravery;
yet the savage within claws at the soul.
This barbaric battle goes on undetected,
tick, tock, tick, tock, time is wasting.
Slowly sliding into compliance,
the commander imposes constraint, flick and swish.
Feet firmly planted the savage silently weeps.
With demise the somber soul wakes,
devoid and decimated it lurches forward and onward.
Fleeing the arena to the frivolous foreign fields.
-Shannon Beverley
This is one of my poems I edited for my poetry class.
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