I
Am
So
Bored

Civic
Studies
Oh
My
Lord

Droning
Teachers
Boring
­Class

Chances
Are
I
Will
Not
Pass

Half
The
Student
Fell
Asleep
­
Zero
Knowledge
They
Will
Keep

Civic
Studies
What
A
Bore

Good
T­hing
I
Like
English
More

When we were little
They used to call them
Spotted
Orange
Lizards.

I think they were trying not to scare us with
The words
Standards
Of
Learning.

Standardized testing.

Those things that you need Number Two pencils for.

Those things that they prepare you for
Every year
For months.

Those things that if a cell phone goes off
The entire class comes back
During the summer
And retakes it.

Those things that they give you hours and hours
To take,
Out of our normal schedule,
Even though they only take
Forty-five minutes

Those things that don't even count
Towards our grades
Because
"They're really assessing the teachers--
But it's important to do your best."

SOLs.
Those things that people stress over.

Even though your answers
Are only
Tiny gray dots
On a
Scantron sheet.

She may be ******.
And she may check my fingers-
Slam her hard metal pole down on them-
Each time we practice lacrosse.
And she may roll her eyes
At
Me.

But I don't hate her.
I feel sorry for her.
Because I think I'm the only one
Who pays attention
Through the laughter and fun
That
He touches her.

And she makes a joke out of it
So her minions snap out of their dazed state and
Chuckle a little bit.
But his crawling fingers are greedy
And her words are scarce.

All of the brain-dead minions
Laugh when she jokingly screams,
"****!"

Except me.

"Oh, hey Emily, will you be on our team?"

It was the very bad ending to a very bad day.

Three tests, forgotten homework, stuttered lines,
And this is what got me in the end.

Those girls,
The ones with the
Perfect long blonde beautiful hair
And the pencil skirts
And uggs,
The girls who even manage to make gym clothes look good.

We had lined up for
Captain ball
Which is really just
A mix of
Soccer and basketball.

And we had to line up,
Every inch of back touching the wall,
And the first seven people from each side would play, and then the next seven.

But of course
Those girls
The ones who can't bear to be
Seperated
For two minutes and forty-seven seconds
Had to have the perfect team.

No.
Just no.

I won't "be on your team."

There are no teams.

I sat outside
Lauren's LS classroom
While everyone else was at lunch
Chewing up and equal mixture of
Soggy bread and lunch meat.

I sat outside
While my back went numb
Against the cinderblock
From leaning a little too hard.

I sat outside
While other kids
with different schedules
Wrote elongated essays for English
Just to make 500 words.

I sat outside
Of Lauren's LS
While she tried her hardest
To explain to me
Why I got 17b wrong
And
Of course
How to fix it.

And I sat outside
Doing test corrections
For a poisoned class called
Geometry

I sat outside
Because of my 57% score.

I sat outside,
And I decided to study.

I'll miss you so much,
I'll miss you so bad,
The past three years to date,
Are the best I've ever had.

And while we are apart,
Of times together, we will dream,
And when we are so sep'rate,
I'll be bursting at the seams.

Is just what it sounds,
First you're up,
Then you're down

Can't decide
Of what to write
Of hearing? Of taste?
Of smelling? Of sight?

And you run in circles
But nowhere you get
Because writer's block
Has you in its net.

Cemented shoes
And silenced talk
It's even hard to describe
Writer's block