Leaving School Poems | Examples
These Leaving School poems are examples of School poems about Leaving. These are the best examples of School Leaving poems written by international poets.
AVIAN RAINDROPS
Birds flew overhead,
Leaving wet droplets falling;
But they were not rain:-
The board of education has confirmed
cursive will no longer be learned,
leaving many young kids unsure
how to write their signature.
A bird flew over me,
leaving a feather falling,
landing on my head:
Oh, it had to be a dove,
I’ve never felt so peaceful:-
Trees’ leaves were ripped off,
leaving nakedness behind
with teasing winter:-
Nude trees not ashamed
as winter winds teased them;
their hope barked in spring:-
Through thrusting winter,
naked trees never gave in;
waiting coming leaves:-
Embryonic Stage
So comfy and warm
Not feeling a hint of harm
Oh, what’s happening
Birth
Good grief, it’s so cold
O’er and o’er again was told
“Beautiful baby”
Child Age
Play sports, make good grades
Life’s full of adventure days
Hates vegetables
Teen Years
It’s an awkward age
Parents struggle through this stage
Just stay sane through it
Young Adult Years
Leaving home first time
Into unknown, a steep climb
Where will it all end
Middle Adult Years
Work and family
Agony and ecstasy
Stalwart day by day
Older Adult Years
Body , soul, and mind
Seeking peace of special kind
Beyond ever known
I left my state to study afar.
A church college lured me to go west
where it’s so dry and no fireflies are.
But I was young and followed no star
that could lead me to what would be best.
I left with no really firm goal.
A psychology major I’d thought
to pursue. My apathetic soul
got off that bus. A different role
I took when a new bus I caught!
Off this new bus, I found myself flung
onto a path I had never thought of -
to ESL teaching I then swung.
Also I fell into marriage quite young
and always lived far from kinfolk I love.
What if I had never moved away?
Was my aimlessness part of my fate?
Would I be happier living today
where all through my youth I used to play?
One can’t know what one can’t recreate.
I can be a wretched fake, in private, intimate performance.
I’m an actress capable of imitating spontaneous pleasure -
by tricks of hesitation, convulsive vocal play and postures.
A mimicry undetectable to an immediate spectator.
Aww, thank you, I’ll sigh, as if leaving a good party.
“I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I’ll add, a minute later.
To clear the stage.
Why's everyone leaving
Where they all going
O.K - too much crime in the summer
but not so bad when it's snowing
What else is wrong with Chicago
What should we fix first
The schools that don't teach
or the new mayor who would reach
in our pockets
for $800m
in NEW taxes ...
...Though no one asked me, I think we should fix
all the best roads and their roads signs to read
'To Exit Chicago - Right This Way!' ~ a neat little trick
Were in the (study) trenches, but we don’t mind,
in the trenches, you aren’t really aware of time,
I’ve talked with a lot of my classmates,
and the citadel lights are burning late.
Ever startle awake because a spiders on your face - but it’s only your hair?
Sunny’s been infected with the writing sickness.
She keeps saying “listen to this.”
Orthography might just be the death of me - seriously.
I dreamed Peter (my BF) was leaving.
I saw him behind the wheel of a car,
waving from the deck of a ship,
and blurred in the window of a bullet train.
It was like a wheel of misfortune.
.
.
Webster: Orthography: “spelling correctly”
Tears come easily on this special night,
It's saying farewell that is hard.
Thoughts turn to the celebration of the end of our twelve-year journey,
the end of our growing years together,
hugs and kisses are abundant.
Nervous laughter as memories crowd.
Signing yearbooks,
But how do I say...goodbye?
Feeling footloose, with nothing to grasp and hold.
A vacant feeling,
Watching all we've known disappear.
Will we see friends again,
or lose them forever?
As we search for our dreams,
will we find ourselves?
Graduation: a time etched in memory--
laughter, tears--bittersweet.
March 28, 2023
For "Graduation Day" contest
by Craig Cornish
Kicking and hitting used to be unusual in a classroom.
In many classrooms it is same-oh-same-oh these days.
Icy screams that raise hair on your neck are becoming normal.
Sadly, parents are not in school to see what is happening.
They would be horrified at the behaviors we tolerate.
“You are not in trouble” is our mantra, but they should be.
Worse, out-of-control behaviors are worth a reward.
An out of control student can get a “break”.
They get to throw basketballs or kick a soccer ball.
Here is a five-dollar gift card if you do not tear up your classroom.
Schools are backwards now- rewarding bad behaviors, not good ones.
This is the reason so many teachers are leaving this profession.
*Image of Remembering Sirs & AUDIO To Sir with Love by Lulu.
To Sirs with Love Clerihew
Christian Charles Roberts,
One of the converts,
Sir Sidney Portier's
East End school proteges.
2023 January 07
*3rd Place*
BRIAN STRAND CONTEST NO 1167
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2023 January 09
*HMS.
He had played the class hoodlum, Denham, in the movie, "To Sir with Love," with the decedent, Sidney Portier.
Undisclosed particulars of his passing, leaving behind his wife Christine whom he had married on 12/26/73, 49 years ago to the day, also leaving behind two children (03/17/44-12/26/22) at 78 years old.
“It’s just a rough draft,”
he said with a laugh
but the joke is half epitaph.
I know I’ll regret it
this helping him edit
his thesis, this knife,
that will cut through my life.
Somehow, it’s become real
this part of the deal
where my dear Dr. Peter
will vamoose from our theater
where I’ve acted like I could go on
when I return next year, and he’s gone.
Abandoned Trunks And The Children
There laid the empty gray trunk;
never to hold a thing again.
There in the blood-wet soil,
a sadden decaying lump.
Dead and no longer in life’s pain;
lifeless—no longer in earthly toil.
Gone are the rumbing fun echoes
and self gushing joyous showers;
Leaving only keloid ivory memories
to be as tombstone flowers.
Thus is the sad eerie fate
of a great regal elephant;
A victim of greed’s sake—
and man’s pleasure hunt.
Ironically–in schoolyard-like graves–
in the brightness of ivory sunshine days,
Our children–like joyful trumpeting elephants–
have become victims man’s ongoing pleasure hunt:-
Today was strange; but in a good way.
I had two classes to teach; they were both cancelled.
Leaving me to do whatever I want all day.
Except for lunch duty but that was only a half hour.
So, no big deal there.
I thanked both teachers for cancelling me
While they were in the midst of apologizing.
Never apologizing for giving me a break I told them both.
I meant it too. I still mean it.
It has been a terrific start to my Thanksgiving break; a day early.
I should feel guilty taking their money, but I don’t.