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Leaving class

I leave my math and science classes.
Everyday
Convincing myself to switch.
Majors

Each class: a different language.
I don’t understand
One that mixes my sand,
Over stretch my brain
Far passed too sane to know.
I am now insane

Languages my whole life-hood
Was never prepared for.
Not to any extent

Like setting fire to a saint,
My knowledge, intelligence:
Control center
Is dumbfounded…
Or found itself dumb

Too ashamed
To be astonished,
Too puzzled
To resolve
The Greeks and Romans
I am expected to resurrect,
The ideologies and theories
I am expected to real-eyes.

Because real-eyes realize
These numbers and letters and signs and cosigns
Don’t sympathize.

So I’m left with black-hole eyes
Convinced.
I don’t speak the language of my demise

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

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