i was literally such a sassy diva I set foot in the gloomy old brick building,
Feeling the weight of the straps on my shoulders
I tread through the hallways,
Formulating my thoughts into some sort of plan,
I grip the wooden handle of my recently sharpened weapon
I check that the point is still as honed as it was once this morning
Arriving at the appropriate room snapped me out of my thoughts,
Made it all real I began searching for the face I knew oh so well,
The face that I have seen for all of my lifetime at this disdainful site,
I found it,
Laying peacefully,
As if not the cause of so much of the pressure throughout my existence I finally, at last, pull out my weapon and begin at work
Prodding the sharp tip into the surface and watching the color change,
Each wrench giving the pale layer another dark line,
Until I am done I pull back and look at the piece of paper I’ve written on,
And wonder if this poem will be good enough for my teacher
