Ramblings from Atop the Iron Tower
January 4, 2019
Solitary confinement, squished into a nook,
Trapped with my own thoughts, feeling like a common crook,
Rooting through these dusty shelves and reading these same ol’ books
Over and over again ‘til my head hurts.
I learn and learn all I can, pouring over each tomb,
Absorbing all these facts I can until my brain goes BOOM,
Only to end up with a headache so strong that I swoon
And naught to remember, for all that it’s been worth.
Even the facts that stick don’t do much to feed my soul
Or nourish my hungry mind, over which I’m losing control
For my inability to apply them has been taking its toll,
And if I don’t so much as leave this room, I’ll scream.
I know there’s a world out there towards which I can apply
All I’ve been trying to learn, and I can’t understand why
I can’t do so, for how many tests must anyone, including I,
Pass to ensure I wake up from this dream
That’s gone sour faster than I’d initially expected?
Furthermore, what of these thoughts in my mind I’ve just detected
Like my fear of unfulfilled mastery and my dread in being rejected
By those who’ve no faith in or want for my skills?
The beginning of my journey, after all, may have gone well.
Then again, it was the simplest step, as ‘m sure you can tell,
And the more complex things have gone since, the more they’ve become hell
With each and every brain cell I’ve surely killed.
I need a break from all this toil before I lose what’s left
Of my sanity, of which I’ve already become mostly bereft.
Surely, there’s more to being human in which I can become deft.
Why not grant me leave from this cell so I can see?
Alas, I’m forbidden, hence I stay here and atrophy,
My muscles shrinking by the minute just as my brain fries,
My stomach gurgles, and my lungs burn with so much dust I’d cry,
If only my eyes could shed such relief for me.
Then again, would I even know how to interact with the masses,
Should I finally pull myself together after all these classes?
Would I know how to hold a conversation or even handle passes,
Or will I be doomed to live inside my own head?
Would all I’ve learned be of any use even without application
Prior executed ‘fore I’m at last unleashed upon the nation?
At this rate, I doubt I’ll ever live up to expectations,
Oh, how I wish I’d overcome this dread!
Maybe I’m merely working myself up into such a snit
And dooming myself in my quest to find my perfect fit.
At the rate this whole thing’s going, I might as well up and quit.
On the other hand, it might be too late for that, friend,
And I wonder if I’m the only one who’s come to feel this way
Upon being locked up in an iron tower day after day,
Feeling as though I’ve been doing nothing but slaving away
For something that might not be worth it in the end.