I learned to bury myself
in exams and exhaustion,
in pink highlighters and black thoughts,
in study guides and late nights,
in straight As and tangled headphones.
I learned everything I was supposed to be,
and everything I wasn’t;
I learned that I could live my best life
and still see pieces of my worst.
I learned that I could run ahead
and still be dragging my feet to keep up.
But everything should be okay
as long as I serve shiny grades on trays
made one hundred percent of gold,
and never let my smile fall beneath a ninety.
Don’t forget,
you’re graded on that too.
It’s not that hard—
but when they hand you a shovel,
make sure you learn where to stand,
or you may look up one day
and find that tests and tiredness buried you too.
Sleep is for extra credit,
but what if I wake up one day
with a degree in one hand
and a career in the other,
and I slowly realize
that somewhere along the way
I forgot to hold on to my heart?
Cindy Green is a forest-wandering, poetry-scribbling stargazer with messy notebooks and messy thoughts. Despite her love for all of God’s creation, sunflowers and stars in particular have a way of sneaking into both her writing and her heart (but you won’t hear her complaining about it). She is an amateur sword-wielder with a Highland-dancing warrior spirit who also writes letters to the moon and considers the sky her best friend. A focused daydreamer, organized pack rat, and oblivious observer, she is a self-professing ambivert (or a living contradiction) who deeply feels both the beauty and fallen state of the world. Through her words, she hopes to describe the indescribable and form personal connections with people while reflecting a love for her Savior and a passion for everything she touches.
This is good. I was especially struck by this imagery:
as long as I serve shiny grades on trays
made one hundred percent of gold,
and never let my smile fall beneath a ninety.
Like– like the grade is just a product, the end result that is all that is considered meaningful, and the process behind it can just be forgotten.
I love, love, love reading the unique insight that everyone has when they read poetry. Thank you for sharing!
I adore this, and it is so, so true. The imagery is woven in masterfully, and its words have such a tender but firm way of plucking heartstrings and reminding them what it feels like to vibrate, to make music. Thank you for this. <3
Thank you so much, Corissa!
This is really beautiful, Cindy and very true. I always love seeing your poetry on here! Your choice of words and timing do a great job contributing a sense of urgency that kept me captivated!
This means so much, Shannon! Thank you for commenting 🙂
Mind if I print this out and stick it to my locker next year? I need this reminder.
Go right ahead! I’d be honoured. You’ve got this.
This is amazing! It takes all those simple details of a striving student, weaving an image of the effort, the exhaustion, the striving to do and be good, and pointing out that if we lose perspective of what matters and why, we may lose a part of our self in that race. It effectively expresses how University feels at times, and while I enjoy it, I don’t intend to lose my heart. Thanks for the reminder.
You summed up post-secondary stress very well. It’s something I’m trying to remember, too 🙂 Glad you appreciated it!
Wow. I really love this! Especially the last line.
Thank you!