I walk through the doors to a hall I find wasting

I’m writing something, might as well be nothing,

Words and words all hasting...

If we have these words, why not use them in a way that actually matters?

Instead we pull from a bag that we call “critical” or “research”

We love to choose the latter.

This is being shady,

Ain’t a maybe,

I just got a lot to say.

Yes, I’m complaining,

I’m done maintaining

Something that we’re so used to doing.

We don’t say anything;

I’m here to ask why.

Why do we learn about how to maintain

Something called abstinence when some live in vain?

My fingers can’t count how many I know who are depressed,

And God forbid someone doesn’t come properly dressed.

At least I know how to go buy corner-store condoms;

But when my friend wants to die, how do I calm them?

Sometimes we all agree it becomes too much.

And school becomes a game of “Catch up!”

It’s a disgrace if I don’t hand in what’s due

But shouldn’t it be up to me on what to do?

I have no idea what I’m going to do in life,

But don’t worry, I can tell you an equation about a ball taking flight.

I wake up and look to the moon, I can’t even see the sun.

Tell me, please, am I the only one?

I’m not stupid, I know that there’s others too

And when you really think about it you see everyone singing the blues.

Enroll yourself in A.P. Happiness.

I guarantee satisfaction.

If kids are stressing and obsessing

Then tell me, these classes, why do we have them?

I need to say, the importance of family...

I know how it feels without them.

But tell me how

You can live right now;

Student,

Athlete,

Waiter?

Wait...

But what do they care?

Stay out of their hair.

Start a peregrination of the soul.

Find back that spark

You had at the park

When you were seven years old.

I stay preoccupied looking to this unknown future,

Filled with possibilities greater than a high school junior.

We live afraid to be exposed

But this time I propose:

Speak out with what you know to be true

The truth isn’t found in a 90’s geometry textbook;

It’s found in those “meaningless”

doodles and words in your geometry notebooks.

Instead of continuing a life of monetary success,

I say speaking the truth is nothing but the best.

I know I come from privilege.

I’m a 17-year-old white male.

I’m just tired of living a disgustingly stale tale.

Write your own history.

And stop just reading it.

Jonathan Gerweck is a junior at North Penn. He enjoys writing, traveling, learning languages, and is in German Club and International Friendship Club.