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You, you're my one and only,
Without you I'd be a little lonely.
Nope I lied,
If I were to lose you,
I'd lose myself and they'd have to gather tools to fix my heart.
And while the ocean is wide,
I need you to be my bright side.
In fact it's starting to seem that you're the ink in my pen,
Your tears of sadness and joy.
Staring into your eyes,
I freeze like a toy.
I'm just a boy,
And you're my classroom crush.
This one is for my lady who's always reading these, love you. :)
Ejiro Jan 8
I sit with clammy hands gripping on my jeans
with my head facing my wooden desk
trying not to make any eye contact with the teacher
But in my chest, a severe panic stands before me randomly
soon there was a sudden watchful feeling inside me circling
multiple eyeballs were glancing at every inch of me
I watch their eyes with terror knowing they aren’t actually there
as I try to keep my composure down with deep breaths
my leg starts to shake uncontrollably
making some of my classmates notice with awe
they whisper to one another and when the teacher calls on them
they go back to doing their schoolwork
“Do they see through my disguise?”

suddenly the teacher calls my name
wanting to know if I’m alright since I seem off
I smile and tell him I’m alright , but inside I know that wasn’t true
I look at the window next to my desk
the feeling of sonder runs through my head swiftly
from every car and truck going to different directions
to the birds eating random scraps on the sidewalks
The world feels strange when you think about every little detail
and yet I can't find peace no matter how much I try to look at it in a different view perspective
I began to hear the same whispers rising again
“Are they talking about me still?”
I secure my disguise back on quickly

Every time skip, every sneeze with “bless you” , my mind’s a blur
Hiding the overflowing storm that wasn’t done with me
unsure of when it’s safe to be at ease.
I make it through my last class and began to pack my bags
But in my head, I’m not at rest.
Matthew Harper Oct 2024
I have had enough, I just wanna leave,
This place has no love, they all just deceive,
I thought I would be someone's only choice,
Alone I am left, no one hears my voice,

I thought I would make at least one person smile,
I've struggled in vain, my efforts were dire,
I still do possess, this haunting desire,
Just want to connect, It's all I require,

It seems I have failed to build a connection,
With not much time left, I avoid detection,
So, what if there's no one, not one that would seek,
Seek out this man, when he feels so weak.

I might just do better, the next stage I'll live,
I'll write you a letter,
If I can forgive.
I feel so alone when I am in school.
I can't wait to leave, that place is so cruel.
Perhaps I'll do better, just once I'll move forth.
I'll meet some new people and life will go north.
xjf Aug 2023
A promiscuous note
floats across the table
I would conjure the answer, if I were able

Time strenuously stretched past comfortability
Yet I
know your fingers hold the agility
to reply in quickened fashion

Your hands lack the desired passion, they lack the action
A pen stroke holds the balance of hope
But all I got back from you was

"Nope"
Caosín Jul 2021
my teachers say i'm good at writing
they say i'm at
GCSE level.
But they don't understand how i work
i don't write.
The writing writes me,
the writing writes the writer.
I take inspiration as it comes,
and when it flees i'm left with nothing.
I'm thrown into a room of children
lower than my level
and they expect me to
learn?!?
What a ******* joke.
Juliana Apr 2021
twenty students in
perfect little rows
worker bees in training

a crooked child
shakes his hand
a silent celebration

he knows the answer

it is not one
of math or science

he cannot tell you
who won the war
but he can tell you
what makes the world
beautiful

he can tell you
that knowledge is
about more than
just facts

that what’s interesting
isn’t always what’s
important

behind those
failing grades and
messy locker
is a child who longs
to learn
a child who is
smart
a child who
isn’t meant to be
just another
worker bee

some children
are meant for more
then the target
of a flower
moon man Feb 2020
She looks on into the clock, wondering when the bell would signal her release from boredom. She finds herself playing with the hoodie of a classmate, hoping he'd focus on her to have someone keep her mind from the mundane atmosphere of the classroom. She always loved messing with his hoodie during class because his reactions were always funny. She tosses the piece of clothing from one hand to the other when She comes to realize the patient nature of the classmate and thanks him for not leaving her in a world of loneliness and apologizes for having to put up with her.
I have a friend in class that sits behind me and she always liked to mess with my hoodie whenever the class would bore her, one day she apologized about having to put up with her. I never really minded when she played with it.
Gift Gugu Mona Dec 2019
My kind of girl
Understands who she is
Stands for what she believes in
She cannot be broken
No one can belittle her
When trials come her way
She remains unfazed

My kind of girl
Walks with confidence
She exudes excellence
An epitome of elegance
She does due diligence
Being mindful of her intelligence
Because she knows her importance

My kind of girl
Builds her own future
A certified trailblazer
Who utilizes the power within her
To be of good influence
Always on top of her game
Yes, she keeps soaring like an eagle

My kind of girl
Takes charge of her own life
Secures her name in historical archives
For she is no ordinary woman
An extraordinary being
She dares to dream
In the world, she makes a difference

That is my kind of girl
From My Mother's Classroom: A Badge of Honour for a Remarkable Woman
Max Neumann Dec 2019
entering a classroom that
is not a classroom

my pupils inside: i haven't seen them for a long time
i want them to listen to me
yet the pupils aren't listening; they don't (want to) perceive me.
all the time i look at them, they look into another direction.

they aren't rebelling or trying to sabotage my lesson;
my lesson that isn't a lesson.

it's an encounter between an older person and
younger persons who aren't young anymore but
who haven't grown up yet.

the pupils changed into beings-in-between.

i can sense that they have become independent.
the pupils don't need a teacher anymore;
they aren't ready for making a living either.  

many teachers need to be needed.
most pupils want to be autonomous.

teachers will be disappointed by the end of a day.
pupils dislike school by the end of most lessons.

dear athena, that's wired. isn't it?
therefore we need to think about it. we need to ask ourselves:

WHAT has to be changed?
Have a great day at school. More or less.
sophie Dec 2019
piercing eyes
burn straight through me.
i feel exposed
and peeled open,
as my last rational thoughts
drizzle through the gaps
between my fingers
and pile up on the ground
like wet sand.
i take my shaky steps
like the earth is depending on me
to prevent her from quaking.
and as the hands on the clock
reach out to strangle me,
i break a sweat
and try to choke out words.
i fail,
and the judging eyes judge.
the fragile silence is broken by whispers.
anxiety
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