School

I’d raise my hand.
Waiting and waiting to be called on.
Watching them be chosen one by one.
I can’t cry out.
By the time it’s my turn-
Finally, finally my turn!
I can’t decide if my answer is right,
Or if I’m a horrible person.
I used to have good ideas.
In my notebook that had stickers and glitter.
But those ideas had nothing to do with school.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Bartley Avatar
May 18, 2024 at 4:34 PM
Made me laugh a good belly laugh. Thanks for making my day!
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace