Faceless

I sit down in each class As time rolls past Think my life is one big hour glass For no test knows my dream No quiz knows my future Of all this are you sure Is it all what is seems? Do we question this path? And face society’s wrath? Of a world built on papers With faceless names Without that paper Would we face the shame? Should we slave away On these classes for which we pay? Or do we step aside And in ourselves we confined So not to measure our success By a title on our desk But the satisfaction we receive Because only then will I believe That the world is not full of faceless papers But a clay ball and we are the shapers