By Lucas Herrera

I

Onto privilege,

While standing on the rope

With no net beneath him.

Corner, where the bends forsake proper learning.

Found there, a child bleeds out

2 blocks away from my mother’s house

It’s chilling, that could’ve been anyone

But you’ll never really have to worry

A struggle, eternal in the way winds hit against you every second

Bone dries your mouth and you can’t taste chalk any longer that way back

It’s our own flaw

Only because rectangles suppress you from the truth

Deliciously amused on superficial fruit

Totally, and without repent

Out of the way to justify

When freedom’s a mere flowing stream with pay toll at the head

The polarities of inaccurate, resulting from 2 sides of a town

Trains come in carrying nothing

Take out nothing

And you sit admiring the pretty drawings on them

II

When Halloween would come around

And you were garbage

It seemed so normal as youth

To start to see

Sitting around in the same game

Without the slightest clues of mighty forces above you

While outta site strangers we are, and gaze with remark the true side of capitalism

For warned it was more than that

III

Still with foolish commitment

You maliciously charge defensibly inevitable

But it really hurts me to be so useless

And I doubt you’ll ever feel what it is to see that

Everyday is another mark

And you try hopelessly to change it all

The rolling trash lifted off the ground

To make it so every day is good one

But nothing ever changes and that’s why it really hurts me

I want to come to peace with the system

But id rather keep fighting

IV

Just until

Education is less than a blessing and more like a given and

Art stays breathing