Growing up, bubbles are fun. They kind of just lazily float and you chase them and pop them and have a ball. Then, they become less special. They get worse. They represent a system, a systematic way of measuring intelligence; of measuring worthiness. "Fill in the bubbles completely with a number 2 pencil." Bubbles come to change you until you are the one to pop.
tags: poetry, verse viernes, bubbles, standardized testing, thing a day, 1 to 200
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