Je ne comprends pas Madame.

It was my junior year of high school,

the world seemed so small.

Just me my friends and family,

until summer ended and it was back to the roll call.

My teacher was a French lady, 

and she spoke the language very well.

Unforunately,

she learned english from an app on her phone.

She was so nice, 

and everything was going so well.

But I never knew struggles, 

until she told me Google Translate was wrong.

Slader was a big help,

for solving workbook problems.

But she started making us do them in class,

F's were dropping like my GPA.

I complained to my mother,

and both of my sisters who have seen it all.

They told me about foreign proffesors at college,

who throw things at everyone.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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