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Max May 2018
The assignments they give us
As a daily breifing
To never forget the logic we learn
So we can use it in future schooling

That doesnt mean we like them
For they give us headaches daily
Its the most boring part of life
I'd rather watch a bee

I'd rather play football as a pastime
Than write math down with ink
The notebooks we use are thick
And the textbooks are pink
Max May 2018
I have this stupid grin
Plastered upon my face
My face is as red as roses
If only i could put them in a vase

You made the right decision
When i asked the question to you
You said yes to being my girlfriend
And that's all that matters, boo

I love you more than supernatural
I love you more than doctor who
I love you more than sherlock
I love you lots, and I hope you do too

I hope this never ends
For i cant take the heartbreak
You're too much to lose
My heart still has an ache

The smile stretched upon my face
Goes good with the tinted red
I'm going to love you forever
I'll text you all night as I lay in bed

I probably wont get sleep
But that doesnt matter
As long as you are mine
And together we make a mad hatter..
Max May 2018
Black and White
Yes and No
Right and Wrong

Those are the only choices according to people

You cant be Blue
You cant be Maybe
You can't be half right half wrong

Boy and Girl
Straight and Gay

You cant be fluid
You can't be bi or pan

Those are the only chouces according to people

Thats the problem with society today
You dont have the right to say
That that is not okay

That's the problem with today's society
You cant be a maybe
Or questioning your sexuality

Thats the problem..

Let's fix it..
Max May 2018
Poetry to me is like a bird.
Once you start, you keep going until the end.
My brain stores my ideas daily
And they flow onto the paper like magic.
Its almost like therapy
All of my stress gets poured onto the paper like a waterfall
My emotions turn to ink, on a lined sheet of paper
Writing it is like a secret code
On the outside, it had one meaning
On the inside, it has another
A more powerful meaning than before

But sometimes, after a long day
When I dont feel okay
My brain has no more words in stock
Its called Writer's Block
The words won't form inside my head
Its almost like my creativity is dead
I look around the room I'm in
And I look for objects that I can pin
I try to find something wild
Something styled
When suddenly, it hits me

It calms me like a song of Jazz
I get a dash of zing
I start to write my feelings down
And search up inspiration on Bing
I look up through my window
To see the beautiful trees
I look up at the nighttime stars
And I see all the firebees
I find some peace and quiet
Within the blowing breeze
I find the words inside my mind
And they flow onto the paper with ease.
Max May 2018
The popular group

They are a distinct chatter loop

Starting new drama each day

Being snotty and say their parents' cash is their pay

Buying expensive things for the hell of it

Riding in the new cars, though just a little bit

Always talking in the halls

To avoid them, kids walk into the walls

The lesser kids are like prey

While they are like a manta ray

Always eating in information to be used

The info helps keep the lessers abused

And keeps the populars amused.

The popular group.
Max May 2018
The red bleeds down my leg
As I drag the metal contraption as if im drawing with lead

The yelling is louder in my mind
Than downstairs with those kind.

The kind as in people who claim to be an adult
The ones who are nothing more than a cult

The cult of ******* parents who hate their kin
Hate them more than when they stub their shin

I'm nothing more than a mistake they tried to erase
By drinking alcohol and arguing at a pace

My friend tries texting my snap
But im too far gone to give a crap

I drag the blade harder, deeper than before
I suddenly become aware of the door

The door is open

Everyone is staring

Everyone is asking why...

What should I do?

Instead of saying, I turn my head away

I run away
Like all my problems before today

Eventually, given enough time, I'll push my friends away


I hope that comes sooner than later..

Because I dont know how much longer I can keep up with smiling..
Max May 2018
The boy stood in front of his class
The short story unit was ***
The teacher had them do presentations
For they all had to do representations

The boy stood in front of random humans
The class looked like Roman ruins
Most people were gone
Thank Satan for that one

The boy’s hands were getting sweaty
No he did not have spaghetti
He was already forgetting his lines
It was like in front of his eyes, there were blinds.

The boy was a stuttering mess
At least compared to last time it was less
He sat down with his face bright red
He felt like he could drop dead

But then the class started clapping
The rest of the presentations were wrapping
The teacher handed back their rubric
The kid felt kind of sick

The teacher, with a smile, gave mine to me
I had gotten a B..

(True story)
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