The finale.
The end.
Fucking finally.
I am tired of pulling my own hair out for a bunch of blazer wearing bitches.
Forced to listen to fuckery whilst making incredible wishes.
Can I pass this semester with at least a C?
Can I not fail physics with a fucking D?
Can my computer not die on me while I'm struggling to write a paragraph entirely in Spanish?
You know what? Fuck you and your liberated nonsense.
And fuck Michelle Obama forcing me eat this cardboard bullshit.
Fuck the teachers who refuse to believe that what they teach is useless.
When the hell am I gonna ever use a quadratic equation in the future?
I don't fucking need to know all the forces.
What I need to know is how pay some bills.
So I don't get kicked the fuck out with my kids hanging on to me wondering "mommy why are we leaving?"
Can you teach me the answer to that question you sons' of bitches?
Or will you manage to bullshit that answer to like a bunch of elementary school snitches.
Just stop talking to me about what my future holds.
When wasn't there a time when you were young?
Weren't you just as bold?
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
