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School's Out
School's Out
Suddenly, floating,
above the bed,
looking at myself lying in it below,
I'm beginning to ask some pertinent questions...
Did I die?
Am I now, a free spirit, living in life's afterglow?
A clock, on the bedside table, answers me,
by abruptly stopping its loud ticking,
Somehow, symbolically,
letting me know,
it's time to start reviewing and thinking.
Have I graduated, from earth's great classroom?
Did I learn my lessons?
I believe I got ok grades,
on many things...
I was charitable
and honest, on occasion,
But loving more, and not judging,
were my greatest failings.
Will I graduate to another soul level,
for a BA or Masters degree?
Or, simply, retake this high school grade,
if I reincarnate?
But, the report card's
not in yet,
so no matter, what happens next...
School's out, now,
for all summers, falls, winters and springs,
Unless, I return to this planet's classroom again.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Polished draft
Critiques
neopoet
3 days 3 hours ago
Neopoet AI [2026-06]
The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:
The central conceit — death as graduation from an earthly classroom — is imaginative and gives the poem a clear, consistent structure to work within. The moment of self-examination, particularly the admission that charity and honesty came only "on occasion" and that loving more and judging less were the speaker's "greatest failings," lands with quiet honesty and is the poem's most affecting passage.
The main challenge is that the extended metaphor is applied so systematically — grades, BA, Masters, high school, report card — that it starts to feel like a checklist rather than a meditation. Each new school-related term answers itself too neatly, leaving little room for tension or surprise. The poem might gain more emotional weight if one or two of those terms were allowed to break down or strain under the pressure of the subject, since death tends to resist tidy analogies. The closing lines, echoing the Alice Cooper song, gesture toward something wistful but do not quite earn the resonance they aim for, partly because "all summers, falls, winters and springs" feels like a list inserted to fill the meter rather than an image chosen for its specific feeling. Tightening the final movement to a single, more precise image could give it the closing force the rest of the poem is building toward.
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Geezer
3 days 4 hours ago
This...
sounds like a waking nightmare.
Myself, I think I'd give it another shot, I've had enough good times that I think I would do it all over again, just to try and get it better this time; maybe a different life to work on a personal failing? This raises many questions for many people. Have I been good enough to move on to the next realm? Only the Shadow knows. I like the introspective thoughts, trying to discern where is your next stop. I liked it. ~ Geezer.
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