Art Students.

I walked into an arts school
And noticed a flock of sheep
Although they we're "individual"
They were all the same

The same vintage clothing
Found in a little shop
You wouldn't have heard of
Worn the same awkwardly way

The same fringes and coloured lips
The same boots, like a river of rocks
Stuck in the raging water

The recycled conversations on Salvador Dali
And student lectures in the history of pop culture
Finding deeper meanings into art
Which clearly has no intentions

The glorification of photography
And how cool it is to be vegan
And the shitty little cliques that
You wouldn't fit into, so you're told not to even bother

I couldn't forget if I tried
How everyone is a writer
And the way they say they're working on a novel

And the most common statement
That should be painted across their face
Which varies to their chosen field
"I'm a freelance"
Cinematographer
Writer
Photographer
Designer

I really couldn't care less

I walked into an arts school
And smelt the pretentiousness ooze from their bodies
So I threw my pencils to the ground
And walked home shaking my head