"studyhall" poems
There's no freedom,
so why even try?
It's not like,
we're gonna get very high.
You get written up,
if you don't do as they say.
Oh Lord...
I guess I'm in,
for a swell of a day.
You work hard,
but it's never enough.
This day just seems,
to be getting rough.
There's no talking.
Why does she yell?
She is making life,
like a living hell.
There are some days,
I just stare at the grass.
When I so badly
want to tell her,
to just kiss my glass!
I'll live life my way,
don't tell me what to do.
Nine times outta ten,
I speak the radical truth.
So tell me I can't,
and I'll prove you wrong.
Tell me what to do,
I dare you.
You'll see a side of me,
and it won't be long.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
Study hall
O, study hall
I am sitting in study hall
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC