Standing in rows like robots,
With a caged personality.
Our uniforms trap us,
Showing no individuality.
Our polo neck strangles us,
Our tailored trousers trip us,
How can we express who we are?
We march through the corridors,
We all look the same.
The only difference between us
is the letters in our name.
We write for hours,
Working out integers, fractions and powers,
how do we find out who we really are?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem