There is no Ivy. There are no lights. There is only what was and how it worked for me.

Where I went to school, or where I didn't
What kind of town it was and what it isn't.
Sometimes they bother me.
And others I'm content.

There were no hallowed halls.
There is no instant recognition.

Tiny town.
Tiny blips.

Mediocrity.
Somedays its that.
And others its not even close.

When it approaches the line.
Thats when it gets clear. And foggy.
Because what do I want it to be?
I wanted the name. The lights. The city.
But the limestone and architecture gave me a place.
The institution and programs opened their doors. They wanted me.
Dare I say needed.
So quickly I forgot. Put off the lights.
"When I graduate"

Only to move on to the opposite again.
In every way.
But still no lights. Still no city. Still no black stages.
Put me in the 4th. What does it mean?
Nothing to you. Only I know the work was the same.
But do you know the name?
And do you know the rank?
Can you forget it if you do?

What will you think
when you read where I've been;
who has taken me in.

Does it matter?
Somedays.
And others its not even close.