Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.167

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Ah, that smell of bread from Home Ec.,
Just can't be real to me,
Because school just seems to be a part of everyone's misery,
But then I realize
The bread from there is as real as a bakery's.
And when I'm with my friend,
The fun of bugging her in the hallways
Never seems to end.

Then I take one more look at what school is like,
I begin to admit to myself
That it's not so bad,
But when my mother gets mad at me
About homework.
I stress about how hard it all seems
And think that my teachers are all jerks.
But I always finish it off in the end,
And then the whole cycle goes around again.
The truth is, I always change my mind and say
My teachers are so nice that I could consider them friends,
Sometimes I only pretend to like them.

But what's worse then teachers
Is how I see people smoke
And hear their choices about drinking and parties.
I stare at them and think, "They're gonna be really ugly..."
'Cause I'll never give into peer pressure,
Because my only pleasures are a lot better.

High school is such a big thing,
That when the bell rings
A rush of students go up and down the stairs.
Once you get to class,
Sems like the assignment you get is a pain in the ass,
And it feels like the day will never end,
Especially if you don't have a friend.

I always want to sleep-in, but when I wake up
I think school is so lame,
And sometimes I sleep through the whole day.
And when the sky is grey,
It always seems to be trying to say
That there should be no sun rays on a day at school.
But then, I think through it again and believe that there will
Always be good and bad things in whatever life will bring.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required