School.
Fragile, aching, hot sung hiss,
Remember that summer bliss,
Shaking, crying, hurting eyes,
No homework when the school year dies,
Trying to remember,
Waking up in September,
Early days and struggles through,
Long days with morning dew,
So much work my life is gone,
I can't remember waking up after dawn,
Summer's great,
School's at eight,
But at least I get out at three twenty-two.
YOU ARE READING
speed bump
PoesiaI write my poems when I'm bored, Because I can't say what I feel without being forward, I read all night, And sleep all day, Just to keep you all away, I'm sick and tired, Of being w...
