That degree you have hanging,

on your wall.

Can be broken, shattered,

won’t stand the fall.

It’s words stating your area,

of expertise.

My scars are my proof,

an incurable disease.

The images imprinted,

in my mind.

Are my experience,

my time.

My time served,

released for good behavior.

Finding faith, hope,

my savior.

Through the blood,

sweat and tears.

Recognizing the demons,

facing the fear.

Seeing the real world,

for what it’s truly about.

Erasing the misconception,

weeding through the doubt.

Step out in to the world,

without any protection at all.

Fight, bleed and cry,

then place that degree back on your wall.

Only then will that degree,

be worth a shit.

If this offends you I apologize,

but that’s just the way I see it.