When I was in school I used to draw cubes all over my notes when I would get bored in class. Which was all the time. This poem was inspired by the moments I would draw these cubes so the teacher would think I was taking notes and paying attention. Onto the poem…
Straight Lines I remember sitting in the room on those wooden desks that made me feel trapped
The straight lines they drew me in
If I kept connecting the lines I could pretend like I was present
Like I cared about the words spewing out of the adult in front of me
What are you saying
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