Studies first is what we students say,
After graduation.
Everyone goes on different ways,
Choosing a course, Now that's a big decision.
Some wish to go back,
Back to the time were they can slack.
Passing the quarter, even if requirements lack,
Back to the time were they won't be ransacked.
High school is a training ground,
Training us,'kids', to make our parents proud.
A bell, that warns, isn't as good as it sounds,
Mathematical problems, never fail to make our head pound.
We may have wished to go back,
Though there's nothing really that changed.
Desires, wishes, etcetera. They are kept stacked,
In our head, were everything should be arranged.
YOU ARE READING
My Feelings
PoesíaExperiences Trials Challenges Problems Their all hindrances in my life As much as I gravelly admit it I'm also HUMAN I, like everybody does, have feelings too.
