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Lily Sep 2018
I don’t think some of you know
How much you mean to me.
Every time the bell rings, and
I see you coming out of your class,
Reliable, every day,
Calming me and reassuring me that
No matter what is happening,
The world is still moving.
Every time you smile at me in class,
Even though we don’t really talk,
It brightens my day and
Makes me realize that maybe
Mankind isn’t so bad after all.
Every time we share a laugh,
A football game, a tough test,
A change in the school,
I grow closer to each and every one of you,
Even though you don’t realize it.
But when that final bell rings,
Will you be there?
Will you be with me past final exams,
Graduation,
After the final bell?
Because you will know who your real friends are
When the final bell rings.
Özcan Sh Sep 2018
I'm sitting on the dance floor
I saw her at the next door
She was adorable
She put her little bells on her legs
Danced like the snow
Falling from the sky
And I let my heart
Dance for her smile.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
Health is stuffy and boring
I cannot focus at all
Not one task better to do
Than stare at blank wall

Droning on and on
That door far away
Is it bad that I do not understand
A single word or phrase you say?

Zoning off into distance
Mind up in the sky
I am not paying attention
And I'm not gonna try

Torture is a waste of time
And I am not the only one
Who is waiting for the bell to ring
And class to be done

Time goes by slowly
My brain wearing down
This madness so dulling
I would rather drown

Wait and hope silently
Anxious shuffle in my weary head
Still the teacher carries on
I do not know what's being said

It is cold and I am tired
Wish I could get out
Outside sit patient, quietly
Inside I scream and shout

This poem ***** I know
What can I say?
I am just wasting time
Til the school bell rings today
Written back in high school in a boring *** health class.
Nick Stiltner Feb 2018
A Midnight bell rings through the night cloaked village.
The high standing clock tower has surveyed the night,
and deemed it high time to sing its chime.

A procession of men in crosses cloaked
sway forward with eyes searching dirt.
A humming unison, softly painting pictures
of mankind's final days.

Their humming chorus carries slowly down the empty streets,
an approaching fog creeping through the alleys,
smelling of soft odor sage.

Ever building ***** chimes build,
Frantic hands introduce each note to next
All culminating to its bitter end,
an apex, each note cryingly rings at once
deep into the fearful fox's core.
Sam Jan 2018
This probably isn't what they are called,
And I can't think of the elusive word,
But...I really like bike bells.

You know the ones!
The little diddlydoos on the handlebars of a ten-year-old's bike.
The ones that go
bbbBBBB
      RRRRRrrrrr
           iiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIII
                  NNNNnnnnnn
                 ­      ggggggGGGGGG!


God, they're my favorite.

Because, you see...here's the thing:

When you were a ten-year-old,
Riding a bike to some friend's house your mom didn't approve of,
Did you ever bbBBrrIInnGG the bike bell on your bike when you were upset?

Of course not!

Bike bells are a child's way of telling the world,

"Guys! GUYS! I had a really good day!"

And it makes me happy to know some little kid is so joyful they can't help but bbBBrrRRiiIInnNNggGG all the way down the street.
I'm here
in a
bell and
weather does
tell how
stellar ink
now well
ring in
a jar
where once
a snake
on the
loose whistle
her for
supper that
surely invert
the gridiron
Saint Audrey Aug 2017
Syllable death knoll
This appropriate age ends
Busting out its rib cage
bored
K Balachandran Apr 2017
The midnight bell tolls,
A barn owl accounts with hoots
Night's mix of music
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