I had no sense of when to take zen.
My avid eyes looked to learn more, others found my language-rants to be a bore, but in my mind she had a dream: that I would be an educated queen.
To the passer-by, I looked so plain, the one who your energy I would drain;
I exalted myself as the best, with my many-a-skills to prove me different from the rest.
In all the subjects, I was a knowledge goddess, and when I spoke, my voice was like a chorus.
But the knowledge I gained, I put to no use. She slowly let it collect soot.
And so to this pilgrimage I started, at a place called school, where the best fight and race to prove themselves to teachers. On my high horse with my 4 languages, my thoughts were optimistically nice. …show more content…
But once I spoke, my true colors glowed brightly.
On language, I worked, worked so overwhelmingly,
I was understood by everyone but those who speak natively.
Meanwhile my parents toiled me with other work, ones that bear no meaning except to irk.
Singing, dancing, maths, and more, the knowledge I yearned for was no longer adored.
Forced down my throat, it burned me alive and I began to wonder why I wanted to strive.
I hated it, the pilgrimage I took was now filled with struggle, and I felt like digging a hole, to live in a pit.
Knowledge is not worth it, the hard work kills.
I felt like tattered clothes and boredom was a thrill.
The pressure- it slayed me left and right- was too much.
And I felt worthless as others flaunted their nice stuff.
And all of last year, I slept in this rut.
But somewhere inside me that lover yelled, somewhat.
The knowledge I wanted and craved and loved, wanted me to grab it but my laziness dominated above.
As the pilgrimage came to end, and when I saw the bells ring, then I woke up and bad grades I