What used to be a
Time table stuck to my desk
Stained with glitter from
The last art project
Is now replaced with
With complicated relationships
Between the opposite and
The adjacent
The progression, to me,
Seemed so significant
My mind
Now able to grasp complex
Ideas that once resembled
abstract art
But,
when you tell me
That degrees are considered
Amataur and inferior
To the more esteemed
radian notation
And I will seldom
Use it beyond
The perfectly curated curriculum
That is my high school
Math class
The worksheets,
That once validated
My change over time
Suddenly are what
Make me small
But, your words
Left your lips without
A second thought
As any one
With a PhD from MIT
Knows that
There is always someone
Smarter,
more efficient
More willing, and
More accomplished
And no one has
Any sympathy
For your shortcomings
As they belong
Only to your failure.