#ihateschool - Hello Poetry

at school, I barely say a word I like to be unheard they laugh at me very indiscreetly I hate it I wish they would quit my anxiety knows no bounds my heart erratically pounds I don't speak in fear because they make fun of what they hear the whispers, the laughter at home, I'll replay it after I pretend not to notice but my anger and embarrassment threaten to surface

0

Mar 18, 2025

Mar 18, 2025 at 12:59 PM UTC

theperilouspoet77

school

at school, I barely say a word I like to be unheard they laugh at me very indiscreetly I hate it I wish they would quit my anxiety knows no bounds my heart erratically pounds I don't speak in fear because they make fun of what they hear the whispers, the laughter at home, I'll replay it after I pretend not to notice but my anger and embarrassment threaten to surface

14

The insomniatic somnolence coats me. 16kHz of sound running through my eardrums. Empty words written on the walls of bathroom cubicals. The lifes of people who come and go, Snagged on the emtpy soap dispensers. ***** lino floors folded at the edges. The rattling sounds of doors locking around me. Plastic seats flipped down to carry weights, Of the people who come to just sit down. The rusted hinges on doors I can't seem to leave through. This is both my prison and my safety.

0

Apr 29, 2018

Apr 29, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC

IllyaOz

Bathroom cubicals

The insomniatic somnolence coats me. 16kHz of sound running through my eardrums. Empty words written on the walls of bathroom cubicals. The lifes of people who come and go, Snagged on the emtpy soap dispensers. ***** lino floors folded at the edges. The rattling sounds of doors locking around me. Plastic seats flipped down to carry weights, Of the people who come to just sit down. The rusted hinges on doors I can't seem to leave through. This is both my prison and my safety.

11

Sometimes teachers aren't the ones in front of the classroom. Sometimes they're the people scribbling in their notebook Sometimes they're disguised in this facade of poetry Sometimes they're the ones failing the class, Most times they are. But that's only because most times they see a life outside of lesson, realize that school is temporary tattoo knowledge that to reach success, you can't be afraid to be stung by needles Most times real teachers have already been stung by needles They reveal stories molded into their skin but hide them with their shirt sleeves Most times they are silenced, only seen like a one-way mirror their voices undermined by authority, but still earthquakes, shaking, yet knocking everyone of their feet Sometimes "teachers" are confused with "students" confused with "football player" confused with "hipster" confused with "band geek" Sometimes classes do not choose teachers, because if classes chose teachers we would call them preachers and most times that's all we need.

0

Oct 13, 2014

Oct 13, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC

jasyours

Table 3

Sometimes teachers aren't the ones in front of the classroom. Sometimes they're the people scribbling in their notebook Sometimes they're disguised in this facade of poetry Sometimes they're the ones failing the class, Most times they are. But that's only because most times they see a life outside of lesson, realize that school is temporary tattoo knowledge that to reach success, you can't be afraid to be stung by needles Most times real teachers have already been stung by needles They reveal stories molded into their skin but hide them with their shirt sleeves Most times they are silenced, only seen like a one-way mirror their voices undermined by authority, but still earthquakes, shaking, yet knocking everyone of their feet Sometimes "teachers" are confused with "students" confused with "football player" confused with "hipster" confused with "band geek" Sometimes classes do not choose teachers, because if classes chose teachers we would call them preachers and most times that's all we need.

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