Grades on paper=ink on wood.
Who can tell me what I really know?
Who really am, or who we really are?
Schools drags you into a path of expected failure,
And doesn't take you very far,
For I wonder did Shakespeare ever,
Sit down with his feather,
After being forced to remember,
Every synonym, onomatopoeia and rhyming letter?
Did he ever take an exam?
Which proved he was the best?
Or did he let his imagination fly,
And soar above the rest,
So why are we all stressing?
How come we cry such tears?
And not getting a letter on a paper,
Is one of our biggest fears,
What happened to being talented?
What happened to just being me?
You cannot force a fish to climb up a branch,
But then praise the bear for climbing the tree.
For gods sake, we’re all just human,
We cannot withdraw these stress tears from leaking,
What will be, will be, after all,
Martian Luther King got a C in public speaking,
Sure, study, and try as hard as you can,
But don't hurt yourself because of it,
Don't tear yourself into shreds of ribbons,
If you are stable, healthy and fit,
Maybe its not all about stressful exams,
And all the facts and formulas you know,
Maybe its just about letting yourself go,
And riding the road,
Course, I'm no expert,
so don't blame me if this all goes wrong,
Just look at your life from a different perspective,
And realise it wasn't so bad all along.
Comments about this poem (Grades on paper=ink on wood. by Jem Solley )
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