A Broken-Hearted Teacher

In the cemetery of a high school I found decaying souls embodied in breathing corpses.
Few were truly living, but most were as if statues in their courses.
It seems that the virus of the media has comfortably settled in.
It was no longer a vagabond in a temporary inn.
Drugs, sex, and alcohol!
Those were chief topics of every study-hall.
 
The hype was on getting high
as if you need the substance to get by.
They no longer rely on the self for joy.
They treat life as if it is a toy.  
It’s all about #YOLO!
It’s all about flying solo!
 
On them I cannot lay the blame,
for degrading music has risen to power and fame.
women are reduced to body parts
and men are shamed for using their smarts.
It’s all about how you look, not how you behave.
Slavery was abolished, yet almost everyone is a slave.
 
In the land of freedom, I found slavery at its most,
when I looked at the wounds and found nothing in which I can boast.
They were longing to be free.
Wondering who they should be.
So they looked on TV,
but reality they could not see.
 
Until finally, their real self,
was put on the shelf.
Hidden for no one to see,
because to themselves, they were as imperfect as could be.
 
You wonder why I want to be an educator?
There is no greater enemy than a self-hater.
I want these kids to know who they are,
because they only need to look in the mirror to see a star.