she opened the door
and let out an anguished cry
how long had it been left to
languish
alone, forgotten
in the darkness?

shoving everything else aside
desperate, careless
her hands closed tightly around
shaking
she rushed to yank it forward
into the light

oh no. no no no.
she held it in her hands
gently now, defeated
the need to rush had gone
she could see now
that it had long since expired

trembling, she wept
fell to her knees
and made a promise
that from this day forth
never again
would Nutella to go to waste

Boop boop,
Boop boop,
Now that I'm a grownup,
I su.ck at writing poems.

My mom took me to school today,
Like every day I've gone,
And everything still seemed okay
'Till someone picked up Shawn.

And Todd and Sue and Ellie May,
Miss Pritchard sent them home;
I will admit it's hard to play
When you've been left alone.

So one by one they left the room,
And only some came back;
There were just ten of us by noon
And even less by snack.

I'm not sure when they called my name,
But one thing was for sure;
I wasn't going to fall the same
Fate as my friends before.

I bolted past the office staff
Who'd come to seal my doom...
They promised me a toy giraffe
If I'd come in the room.

They pointed to a purple chair
And told me to sit down;
They poked their fingers at my hair,
Discussed me with a frown.

Still one of them was very nice,
If only I had known:
They'd searched my head for signs of LIFE
And had to send me home.

Now though I recently turned five
And learned my phonics last,
I could've told them I'm alive...
If only they had asked!

I'm s'posed to be writing creatively,
But I can't figure out what to write;
I'm having severe writer's block, you see,
And I can't get this thing to sound right.

Somewhere inside there's a poet in me,
But I think he's been taking a nap;
Or maybe he's gone and deserted me
'Cause my work always turns out like crap.

As hard as I try, I can't right this stuff;
I don't even know how to spell,
But maybe if I sit here long enough,
I'll too be a poet as well.

And if I built a building,
I'd build it out of bugs.
Spiders, bees, and scorpions,
And seeping, slimy slugs.
Its floors would crunch and splatter,
Its ceilings would drip down;
Floors that hide up in your pants
And buzzing all around.
My building would be creepy,
Decrepit, lacking health;
And though I do not care for bugs
I'd have it to myself.

I just wrote a Constitution
Amendment One says no pollution
Three and Four ban prostitution
The penalty's electrocution
The people cry for retribution
I can't think of a solution

Scre.w those anti-federalists
I hope they develop monster cysts
And writhe and scream and slash their wrists
I'll pound their face in with my fists
They'll be sorry they made me pis.sed

These stupid states won't ratify
This document; I don't know why
I bite my lip and want to cry
I don't know why I even try
I'll mash them into pretty pie
I hope they die and die and die

So sign this pretty pretty please
I'll kiss your feet and shine your knees
But only if each state agrees
To sign this hodgepodge of decrees
Excuse me now, I have to sneeze

Dear Mrs. Maurer,
Please don't be put out
When we sit and stare
Like a bunch of dead trout,
And half of us sleep
(Though some pay attention),
And some of us do things
I won't even mention--
When we get distracted,
Please do understand,
It isn't yourself
Or the lesson you planned,
But rather our state
On those days of the week,
And when we have your class
We're unable to speak
Because Mondays are Mondays
And thinking's a chore,
Wednesdays our feet are
Halfway through the door,
Fridays we're asking,
"Our weekend starts when??"
And Monday the cycle
Starts over again.

So dear Mrs. Maurer,
Your class is not boring;
Your stories and lectures
Do not cause the snoring.
Your challenge is this as
We come to this junction:
Find a day of the week
When your students can function.