I do not see the hype
with High School Stereotype.
Why does it receive such attention?
It doesn't need the press's mention.

We all know of the smokers by the bike sheds,
Who have nothing but fluff in their heads.
Or the girls with skirts far too short
Who's think of *** as a  competitive sport.

The sport buffs, we've all seen,
Full of life and far too keen.
Always poised and ready to go,
Every muscle toned from head to toe.

Young student teachers are here,
Enthusiastic about Bill Shakespeare.
Attempting to teach thugs to spell,
Whilst shady Heads make their life hell.


But do not forget, those you call friend.
The ones who stay by you until the end.
Making you laugh, Keeping you sane
Through rough times they remain.
These companions fit no mould
Therefore their tale is never told.

For the greatest things in teen life
Do not need the media's strife

On the far away island of Sala-ma-sond,
Mira the Koala was head of the pond.

A nice little pool,
it was quaint, it was cool.
The shore side was warm
with eucalyptus galore.

But all was not well in Sala-ma-sond.
For the subjects of Mira were really not fond
of the company Queen Mira kept in her pond.

See, over the years, Mira had gotten to know
a few polar bears, their fur white as snow.

These bears got lost some long time ago,
whilst traveling up to the great northern pole.
On the part of the trip, along the Nile,
the bears lost their map at the 27th mile.

They moaned and groaned, yelled and cried.
They longed for the cold, the north's crisp blue skies.
As the polar bears sniveled, squinting through tears,
Mira heard their loud cries with her big koala ears.
Confused for a moment, unsure of the noise,
she paused and reflected, still keeping her poise.

But the cries of the bears continued to grow.
Queen Mira was left with no choice but to go.

Traveling fast on the path resisting the least,
she made her way quickly to the great sobbing beasts.
She arrived and asked what was the matter.
The polar bears explained, or more accurately, blathered.

"STOP!", pleaded Mira, her heart growing weak,
"I can save you! I can help you! I just need a bird's beak!"

At this the bears paused, for her meaning was unclear.
But then the toucan swooped in, beak sharp as a spear.

He followed Mira’s orders, and poked around in the deep rushing river.
He poked and prodded, but in the end, he had nothing to bring her.

Despite the toucan’s efforts, the map was still MIA,
Impossible to find, a needle amongst hay.

And the bears AGAIN let out big bear cries,
and water also began to fill Mira's eyes.
"Stop bears, stop! I beg of you please!
There is no need to cry, you can come stay with me!
Please come stay in my home,you don’t have to go roam!
Come stay, come stay, at least for a week."

And for a few moments, the bears did not speak.
They looked at each other, nodding their heads,
then roared loud enough to be heard through thick lead.

Every one of the animals heard this great sound,
and every one of the animals turned around,
swiveling their heads 180 degrees.
Every animal turned, from the lions to the bees.
And when the racket stopped, every animal knew
that something was different, something was new.

The bears came to stay just for a little bit.
Then a bit became a while, and soon, that was it.
Suddenly, it was three years later,
and the polar bear's presence had become much greater.

The bears were crude, they were rude, and they were loud.
To their every demand, Queen Mira had bowed,
and the bears felt entitled to every leaf, tree, and stump.
To every single hole, to every single bump.

It soon became clear that in Sala-ma-sond,
the big polar bears now ruled over the pond.
And all of the animals were utterly miserable,
especially Mira, who felt gullible and responsible.

Let this be a lesson to the more hospitable of you.
It's good to be generous, yes, that much is true.
But beware of the guests who take advantage,
for those guests can become difficult to manage.

Don’t be like Mira, letting others walk all over you.
Know when it’s time to bid a guest ‘adieu’.

So tired
                            Of what?
I dont know
Im so e m  p      t         y
Its s
       u
          f
              f
                 o
                      c
                            a
         ­                           t
                                    ­          i
                                                     ­            n
                                                               ­                                            g
Not the hard and harmful kind
Just soft and gentle
         Muffling reality
                     Blurring the edges
I can barely breathe
     Or relate
To anyone
Thats my friend down the hall
     Better look down
I dont want to talk
               Dont take it personally
Im just too tired to think
      To breathe
      To talk
I cant focus
Cant open my mouth
My hands tremble
But my eyes are hard and staring
                                                         ­    Rude.
         Im not looking at you
Im just lost in space
                        In the             e m p t y             void

Standing in a place, empty, no one around waiting impatiently
for a bus that is way too late.

Noises suddenly occur behind and turning I see hordes of boys
crowding out of school, lining the street so as to be,
the first one on the bus when stopped alone.

Laughing quietly within, looking at their boyish faces of
determination, knowing I am the only woman standing there, they
choose to ignore the manners supposedly taught by their mothers.

Going along with it because I thought it was funny, blue line
bus arrives and I step back, watching shame-faced boys climb
on.

Finally a few minutes later, Central zero bus comes, it can
not pull up to the bus stop, because the line of boys is still
getting on the other bus.

Walking down the streets towards it to get on, am suddenly
surrounded and passed by over a dozen clean cut, well dressed-
boys.

They hurriedly crowd in line and get on before me, pushing
and shoving like moronic grade school boys.

Finally at the very edge of the male species, a tall young
blonde looks me in the eye and lets me get on before him.

Thanking him, I smile and climb aboard, finding a seat, I
sit down and begin writing this little excerpt on boys having
no manners at all - except the one.

How come good thing happen to bad people?
People who don't deserve ****
People who yell at others for no reason
People who bully people for no reason
People don't tell the truth
People who talk behind your back
People who aren't nice
And everyone knows it
And the people who give out nice thing know this
And they still give it to these people
While the good people sit in the back
Sit praying for good things
And they deserve the good things
But the bad people get them
And the good people get the harmony