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Abby Jan 25
Since when did school get so confusing?
What ever happened to 1+1=2?
Now it's "What are the three forms of penetrating radiation?"
"Alpha Beta and Gamma"
We answer with our heads slumped down on our desks counting the seconds until the weekend is here
When are we going to use stuff like this in real life?
I'm pretty sure that on a job application it's not going to ask
"What is the square root of 79?"
Unless you want to go into a career with that subject then I'm pretty sure that most of the rest of us are not going to need it
Why don't we learn how to do taxes and how to write a two weeks notice?
I can't tell you how to file for a loan but guess what, I can tell you why people believe that Shakespeare isn't real
I hate to inform you of this but most of the things we learn in school we are not going to have to use except in school
Also, what ever happened to teachers actually caring about us?
My math teacher publicly called me out for hiring a tutor because I don't understand even when I've tried to ask him for help
Don't get me wrong a lot of teachers a great
But don't tell me that there isn't at least one you hate
From a young age we learn things that we are taught is fact
And then, in highschool, we get told that they aren't even that
I just want to go back to 2+2
Back to the times where people actually cared about how I am and if I understood
But instead, I don't understand a single word that is said
This has been my rant on the school system. Thanks for reading.
When I share two or three days of the week to compose poetry I find myself on the
exam session when severe merciless teachers ask us to write about “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard!”
Elegies mostly are unprepared and never find time to turn to the appropriate types!
They ask me on and on...and I ask them in the consulting area that how can we turn my blossomy song to elegies unwritten about the parish of those people, long time ago had been lost exactly on the exam time?
How could you expect me to turn my naïve feeling to one of the catastrophic ones?
time is over
time is up
time is running
time flies
Teachers shout, “ HURRY UP” when will they shut up?
  I usually haunt by the bundle of words and circled with tumults of ideas as shining and variable as stars that like the savage river rush out to make me drowned. Very rarely I could find a way to breathe out. Elegies swirling randomly again and again to pose the question about whom shall we very soon defined, Mum?  
>...O darlings...<
…motionless corpse, wandering ghost, dead people around,
>.. not stars..<
>...O… no..<  
Is there anybody nowadays to think about the “Country Churchyard” and elegies very appropriate to them at all, what a destiny! what a force! while a long time ago they were bestowed to the grand history of all mankind.
Poor elegies remain unborn and sad in my thought…not forever…
they laugh…and laugh…I can hear them, time is over and I’m a failure.

The blank sheet is going to be filled by songs wearing the long red robe of emotional loves or ****…they are tired of black mourning cloth of demise!
they laugh
laugh and
I 'm a murderer…tapping with dirk ….or strangling with a heavy rope of my heart….bloodshed everywhere: drops from my fingers to the height.  shout, scream and cry, they were innocent,  don' t want to die.  I can hear them.
They are killed not to stay further in a cemetery of churchyard but to be born with a new style, either failure or corrupt…
"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" is a poem by Thomas Gray, completed in 1750 and first published in 1751
I have this one
who I hate so much.
I don't talk to her
during clases;
I avoid her during lunch.
She hated me,
I hated her;
we both hated each other.
I've done
no bad to her,
she's done
no bad to me,
but we just didn't mix,
and that
was clear.
I don't know
why I hate her so much,
but to me,
she always looked like
a bad image.
That was all until
my math teacher did something
against my will.
She sat us together;
my enemy and me.
I didn't think that I'd get through
that class,
but I did...
The next day
I hated my enemy even more
than ever before.
I hated her so much
I wanted her
to go straight
to ****.
But soon
something changed;
I'm not sure what,
but I could tell.
I'm not a big fan of writing 'long' poetry, but here it is. I really felt like I had to write this. I will add on a second poem to go with this soon, I just don't have the time now. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!  :-)
Smriti Gupta Dec 2018
Unknown to every one we settled down,
All had entered from the same door brown.
Some smiled while the others cried,
All I did was to look at the blackboard wide.

Within a few days we learned to be glad.
We all enjoyed but still some were sad.
Everyone started making new friends,
All because of boredom and lends.

Ma'am Mala who taught us everythng was so sweet.
In the lunch break the view of the class wasn't so neat !
I selected the set of humans I loved,
Within them one was my dove.

We grew up together playing, enjoying, dancing and crying...
Our confined brains dealing with the heart's dying.
From watching dragon tales with breakfast,
We moved to studying till 12 past

Abuses we said day and night,
But they never made us fight...
Java codes were too long to understand,
But friend's story always continued with another 'and'.

All these moments don't need a backup,
Somwhere between ABC & Aey! BC we all GREW UP.
ACAC Dec 2018
hold on, wait, what, what similarities?

I sit in the group looking around, the grey plastic chair crushes my ******* spine as I cling to it for dear life.
the tutor comes to me last, two weeks in a row I don't get time to talk.
great, I'm already an outsider, now I don't get time to talk.

I listen as the group in the nicer, cosier and brighter room next door laugh and joke.
they are all young and pretty, a feeling of longing pulls me down like a giant magnet, why am I not in that group. have I not got the skills to be young and pretty anymore?

for almost one month now I despair.
how can I ever find my voice in this group there are all so strong, strong women.
this week she comes to me first, I speak, it doesn't help. can they even see me, understand my accent, it seems I'm more different than similar.

the next week I don't go, avoidance wins 1st place gold trophy as I sit alone in bed.
with other groups I'm so strong and proud, can I fake it next week, or maybe just conform and comply.

and so it goes on, am my question remains, what ****** similarities?
polka Nov 2018
is the ******* teacher
who tells you what you could have done to get an A
when you've already turned in your D level assignment.

have i learned anything?
we'll see.
Rizna M Rameez Oct 2018
Don't think you can make your own way
Without any guidance
That's why Allah appointed
Two teachers
For everyone of us.
On teachers’ day, a mention to the biggest teachers of our lives.
exist Sep 2018
we could all be a teacher
we’re all wise about something
taught lessons we didn’t ask for
as we make our way through life
and we can teach people going through
similar things
what we learned from those lessons
we’re all just naive students and teachers
in this school called life
that have learned so much
and have so much to tell about
yet have so much to learn
the school of life
Saroj Basnet Sep 2018
With trembling legs i boarded the bus,
Looking at the monsters around me...
Taking the corner seat,
Lost myself in the cover of book....
I m gonna write in years,

Legs denied the initial step....
But the gentle hand holds my hand,
Taking my fear away...
To Mary-Go-Round & See-Saw,
Charm started flooding my face...
N so i made the cover of my book,

Day by day shivering legs got stronger..
Monsters now seems to be human,
N corner seat faded away...
As tiny-tot reforms to be kid,
Every new day was an adventure....
To write down a new chapter.

Jumping to school from kindergarten,
Slowly playgrounds enlarged..
From See-saw to indoors,
Mary-go- round to outdoors....
Alphabets become theories...
Lovely rhymes turned out,
To scientific logic ...
Brain has increased,
Memory is still in childhood..
N this took me to new phase,
A new chapter of my book.

Learning in this phase....
Numeral hands help me to grow,
Guide my through my path...
Taught me to live,
Embracing the happiness...
I made memories with them,
Print them in My heart...
Making another superb chapter.

Visualising the decline..
In length of smooth road,
Adventure seems to...
Be scattered n different,
But still with hope to be together...
I give the full stop,
To be best gift ever.."My School Days".
I really miss those days......N now with time it has become the fading memories captured within the words.
Lawrence Hall Aug 2018
The principal in a cool cartoon tee
His fashion sneakers squeaking across the floor
Sets out candy, pizzas, and canned sodas
Arranges a door prize, and assembles the faculty

Requires them to sign in so he can check on them
Orders them to hold hands and sing the school song
Reminds them they are all one big family
As a preface to his primary agenda:

To tell them to be more professional
The principal in a cool cartoon tee
from LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, 2014, available from as bits of dead tree and on the Kindle
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