Contemplating the dash

Slamming the door
sounding like a gun shot
mind feeling like a thunderstorm
and in the middle I'm caught

shaking with confusion
trying to hold back the tears
hoping and praying to god
this place not permanent for the next two years

i cant stand the questions
or the little people so naive
i don't think i can take it for much longer
either i die or i leave

plotting my next move
filling up with rage
having no fun like in the olden days
its like I'm constantly trapped in a cage

waiting for the moment
when i completely let go
of all the new faces
and at my real school i show

contemplating making a dash for it
ever foot step farther from this non-sense
my anger is getting warmer
outcomes typically way intense

staring at my surroundings
wishing upon a lonely star
to get out of the wretched place
and finally become ever so far