School is war,
class is a battle.
My soul roars,
As my riffle rattles.
Fear hides in the core,
As I begin to tattle.
One by one stood in line,
stood to attention
pencil made from pine
with everlasting tension
We're running out of time
scared beyond comprehension
What can I do?
Who can I see?
Where do I go?
How can this be?
Student voices grow louder
as chaos gets worse
The headaches get stronger
as life becomes a curse
Pencil marks like powder
We've become perverse
Am I lost?
Am I blind?
What do I do when school aint kind?
Insults fly like bullets,
The time like bombs,
Teachers always shouting
When you've done nothing wrong.
What is this world?
What is this place?
Do I belong here?
It's a disgrace.
YOU ARE READING
Poem collection
PoetryJust some poetry I have written, nothing special. I write about strong emotions I feel whether its depression, deep love or appreciation.
