All Bottled Up



Irritating and annoying,

Describes the horror of your class.

I can barely stand you,

And quite frankly you smell like bass.


You give me all this homework,

Aware that I don’t care.

Yet you still expect me to do it,

But I only add to your grey hair.


How do you expect me to learn,

When I can’t read your chicken scratch?

But then I get in trouble,

For asking “What the hell is that?”.


A duck or a plane,

I just don’t understand.

How is all of this relevant?

Or is it an evil master plan?


I know you really hate me,

And I’ve given you a reason why.

You’re mean and old and stinky

And all you do is cry.


You whine and complain

About how you hate your job.

Why don’t you get a new one,

And stop being an annoying blob.


All these things I wish

I could say to your putrid horrid face

But I’m paying for this class,

So I have to rest my case.


No matter how I despise you,

How much I dread your class,

I really need it to graduate,

So hopefully I will pass.


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