how lovely
that depression is acceptable only until the breakdown.
it must garner sympathy but must not inconvenience,
look pitiful but not be unproductive;
like you are allowed to be empty
but only until the deadline,
will receive prayers and patience
only until your sadness translates into lazy;
they will claim to understand
only until you have stayed days in
without seeing sunlight,
fallen behind on classes,
missed projects you cannot return to.

your education
and your government
will allow you to be suffering
up until it ties you to bed,
makes you miss days of work
and drown in debt
and lose yourself;
afterwards
it will call these faults
the folly of an able,
merely careless mind;

mental illness
is a ghostly disease —
it exists
and everyone fears it
tells you to check in regularly on your friends for it
speaks of it only in respectful tones
a hushed whisper
about the rising death toll
or buried in a joke about the great
millennial existentialism
(how wonderful
that we have grown close enough to darkness
to be able to laugh at it)

and yet you cannot call it real
cannot claim it as an excuse
for not sleeping
or not eating
or not waking
or —
worse —
not working.

how stupid that we
are allowed to be hopeless
so long as we are not tired.

We can write words of gratitude on paper,
    Or to all the world her virtues make known,
    Or ev’n pour forth our love to her in measure,
    But, in vain, try to move her heart of stone…!

Here is a friend who taught us much we need to know:
Right from wrong and weak from strong,
                                                   Lit and English, too;
All this time she’s been working steadily tho’ slow –
She’s stol’n our hearts ‘ithout even attempting to woo!

…One day we will remember, tho’ some wish not to,
These days of pain and pleasure, we all have in school;
There are those you thank for every small thing they do
But how to thank her who made a person of you?

    We can write words of gratitude on paper,
    Or to all the world her virtues make known,
    Or ev’n pour forth our love to her in measure
    But,
        Oh…! Oh…! How to move her heart of stone?

May our sorrowful year with you remain in our memory
As a farewell serenade, a sad and tearful melody.

The stars are dying in the sky,
and hopes are being extinguished on earth.
We willingly plunge ourselves into darkness
when every time a child is denied education.
We willingly sacrifice the light of humanity
when we stand by and do nothing.
The stars will be born again,
but no hopes will ever arise,
if we don’t do our part
of being the most human we can be.

My dream of academia
Is an idealized one
Mr. Chips and the Paper Chase
Classes of five hundred
In lecture halls the size of stadiums
Students focused
Totally absorbed
Hands flying skyward
With thoughts, questions
And answers
Always thinking
Always searching
Always seeking the challenge
Digesting facts and adding knowledge
Connecting dots from places obscure
Yet always looking for hidden meanings
Layers and levels and subtexts
That clarifies cognition
And opens the portal
Of the enigma unknown

Child of the state has an acceptable life
but
mom
is there
as she thought right
when
she was
just a kid, herself.

Stuck in the maelstrom of prideful ways
that
her
mother
and her father
taught her
and so made
two babies,
batter and baste
and begone --

only to admit in the future
to a confused
son and daughter
her
deeper reasons:
she
hurt for love,
she
hurt for the company. . .

. . . (so)!

Keep it going!
Forget, "slowly."
Keep it going,
you're doing
great!

Keep it going!
Forget slowly,
that education is
important.
Keep it up!
Remember,
if someone criticizes
it's because
you're
do
in
g
r
e
a
t
!