School Free Verse Poems

Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be...

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Loneliness has no friend itself 

It dwells in the shadows

Hide in the empty walls

Waiting for one sad loner

It exist within a lost soul..

Not a number...

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I’m gonna play my vinyl in the urinal, and that’s final
Life is bad when you're sad
Ain't you glad they took you out of school, coz...

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Whoa!
Just thrown into the grid.
I just started as a human being.
Words are really hard.
You say them the wrong way people act very differently.
I also notice...

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A senior moment experienced by this drip...

awash with intermittent amnesia.

Scant number of minutes elapsed...
before I forgot whether yours truly
took another dose of glycopyrrolate
ingested as a...

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Blasphemy, truly—
To treat a poem like lab equipment.
Smearing souls on damp napkins,
scribbling overwrought sorrows.

We are sacred, young lady.
Vessles for disciplined sociopaths and 
occasionally, prophets.
Not therapy...

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I was going to become a teacher
I thought it was my calling

I was young and thought it best
to go to university straight out of high...

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I would make a museum of my mind
Fill these musty halls with all my people
Every girl who has walked my corridors 
To write her piece...

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I’ve moved out (of school),
I’m moving in (to school).
My joke is that I’m having a ‘moving experience.’

Graduating college (3 days ago) was a dream come...

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Years of struggles and despair
Bullied endless
Beaten down
Name calling beyond my real name
Fights unbearable
Early school days
Always picked on
Life having ups and down
Hard swings
Criticism always
No matter what
Discouragement...

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A soggy teddy bear
lay on the shoulder of the highway—
head twisted, limbs askew,
its damp fur clinging to gravel
and its sightless eyes beseeching heaven.
I watched from...

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Impossible mission for systematization to be wrung out of entropy

Which lame excuse I exclaimed,
when my dear old mom asked
rather told me in her scolding voice
to...

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Hey, Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me—
in the jingle-jangle morning, I’ll follow you.
Like my nan, slippers tapping,
buttered toast, kitchen radio.
She’d sway while evening’s...

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I was four when I partied like it was 1999.
Didn’t know what Y2K meant—
thought it was a new kind of Ribena.
Mom said the world might...

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The Coca-Cola lamp 
made a circle of light
on the nightstand—
               (soft...

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