We act like we are,
But we aren't.
It's never been taught to us.
We're all being taught derivatives
Or equations of lines
Or various integrals that have no meaning.
We are taught everything,
But nothing about being human;
About being good people.
Our parents used to,
But they're too busy,
Earning money for material goods.
So they passed the chore on to the schools
Who weren't prepared for the task
And failed.
So now
In the interest of blame,
We blame the schools
Because it's much easier than blaming
Ourselves.
The humanity's gone.
The culture is vanishing.
And we are left without the basic knowledge
Of how to be happy.
We get simple thrills.
Always have, always will.
But I just don't think it's enough for me.
I don't think I can do it anymore.
Be truly happy.
There's always something nagging
Or something just on the horizon
Or something that isn't working.
I try to put them on the back burner.
Ignore them.
Wait for them to go away.
But when I think I've done that,
Other things get in my way.
Disturbing and prodding thoughts
That I can't help but pay attention to.
So many faults.
So many mistakes.
So many problems.
So much stupidity.
So much rudeness.
So much ignorance.
So many hours wasted by so many people.
All I want to do is learn about life;
But school doesn't teach that.
Then all I want to do is experience my friends;
But school doesn't allow that.
Finally, all I want to do is experience love;
But school doesn't acknowledge my love.
And when I have time to do what I want,
I have familial responsibilities.
I'm too tired.
I'm wasted from being forced to waste my time.
High school is but an obstacle on the road to success and happiness.
Life seems to be an exercise in how much ugliness you can take until you snap.
But I'll never snap.
Too much self-control.
I'm good at what I do.
And that's being all things to all people.
But it doesn't mean that I'm happy.
I'm missing something.
An integral part that will complete me.
I know damn well what it is.
But I hope I find it.
If it exists.
Everyone seems to know my name,
But that doesn't mean they know me;
And if they did,
They would probably hate me.
Just for who I am.
And that doesn't make me necessarily happy.
