schools a jail

the bell’s a warden’s whistle, sharp and loud,
we march in lines, no talking is allowed.
the walls are gray, the windows small and high,
we watch the clock crawl, dream of open sky.

each lesson’s weight of a chain around my head,
each test is a trial filling me with dread.
i serve my time in silence, thought on bail—
i am a prisoner of knowledge, trapped in school’s cold jail.

and yet, when day is done, I drag my feet,
home is no refuge, no warm retreat.
invisible there, like I’m not really known,
so I’d rather stay caged than feel alone.