Dear Teachers

You constantly pass me by- requiring I sit up straight and formulate interesting questions.
Have I not been thinking deeper thoughts,
ones far from arithmetic equations and verb tense?
Thoughts that even you, teacher, could not understand.
Still, you yank me away, expecting biology and geography to make me happy, when instead my mind is bursting with words and thoughts and plans for stories and poems and books and songs.
My free time is not spent studying your Spanish vocabulary.
You doubt I have better things to do?
My world does not revolve around your lesson plans.
I groan and sigh at night.
Three more years till freedom.
I wonder if I’ll be alive to taste it.