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Vacation's End
Something to noodle with should I decide to actually take writing seriously again.
Well, I am almost ready for my college graduation. I will spare you all from the lame speech about it going too fast bullshit. Instead of showing you the next part of my steamy writing... why not have a bad poem I wrote regarding my school's music studio.


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I am the voice you hear singing in the night
In hopes that Hood feels out plight
Musicians are forced in a moist hollow
The Board of Trustees are made deaf to our lamenting sorrows
Why should we inhale the mold
Even after we are told

That the building was repainted
The air is still tainted
The paint peels off the walls
Each time the harsh rain falls
We aren’t the only ones who feel this pain
There are others who scream in vain

Writers, photographers, and musicians
Would happily sign a petition
We attend a school of liberal arts
Then why do they wreck our hearts

We just want to practice our craft in a safe haven
Not in a building at risk of a cave in

Woe are we for not choosing a sport
For we, will probably never have our own court.






 
 
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