Tags
college, education, engineering, experience, math, poem, poet, poetry, relatable, school, science, SirCharlesThePoet, university
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
