When I was young, my father used to tell me

that studying is a key to my own mind

and that my mind is a gateway

to my own greatness.


As I’ve grown up, I have had no reason to question

his logic: every A was the decomposition of my hard work

like a one-way arrow.


Dreams became the diagrams and print

shooting through me

with a couple of doses of adrenaline and caffeine,

and I started paying off dreams of being a doctor

with my own lack of sleep.


I never questioned Dad’s logic,

because every F was my own damned Fault.

And that was true until I got to college

where Gen Chem teaches you

how the herbicides are going to work

on a chemical level

to weed you out.


With those neurotoxins, the bricks

my father built my own mentality with

slumps on its own stilts.


I am beginning to question my sleepless mentality.

My mind with a collapsed foundation

can’t seem to house its concepts correctly.

Sometimes I have to turn the lights out

and just give it a rest already.


Final exams next week

and I am questioning Dad’s Logic: A for Awake.

Maybe I should just move on to option B.

titrate my grades so they slip a little

and build myself back up again,

like bases.