A continuation of a previous piece, this poem details the experiences of being a confused student in a college setting
Five bars of misplaced notes.
Treble brewing, bass shattering vocals.
Halfway through college, a quarter way from adulthood.
I’m an eighth of a whole man, composing
an instrumental for the internal audience.
Here I am.
Inside a dormitory of conformity.
Boys finding their manhood in rebellion,
I simply mature in silence.
The good kid turning away from the madness.
Struggling to keep depression at bay.
Just wait, don’t succumb to the sadness.
My past friendships consist
of distant connections and unreplied text messages.
My major is engineering,
yet I still can’t build a bridge to the future.
Databases, computer architecture, and
coding languages aren’t appealing to me.
I settled on being an underachiever,
A troll throwing rocks at the curriculum.
With mediocre grades and late turn-ins,
I turned into the very student I despised.
I failed my finals for the last time when
I changed my major to match my passion.
I decided to design graphics for a living
and be more professional in my writing.
So close to the finish line,
I guess I needed to start over again.
Now I’m a senior that needs to get a clue
because graduation blues
and career glooms will consume me soon.
I no longer want be puffed up with knowledge of fools,
Being seen as a disposable tool
or a small fish in the hiring pool.
Some fears remain, still outlining my five-year plan.
Lord willing, I hope to play the sound of a whole man.