Why I'm Always Late to Class


Everyday I walk into your class late,

Not by one minute,

not by five minutes,

but more like eight.

And everyday,

you ask,

why the Hell I am late.

Do I really have to spell it out?

No, I'll just tell you I was in AP Chemistry

since I have a pass

and the biology teacher gave me a cup of tea.

It shouldn't really matter where I was

since I've had my work done ages ago

and no one was calling me a homo.






I've got a word for you.


You pick on me everyday

And call other students these names.

It's not funny

And I'm not playing games.

You teach us that it's okay

to be rude to others.

What would your boss say?

His son used to be a girl

and I bet he would hurl

if he know the words

that come out

of your mouth.

I am suposed to feel safe in school

and you're suposed to protect me

and instead you're teaching hate

and you think it's funny.

You think that 

just because

you lived with your uncle

and his partner

it's gives you the right

to be a jerk.

It doesn't work that way.

You should be sensitive to others

And know not to target

the gay kid.

Next time you ask me why I am late

I will take the bait.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



This teacher sounds awful. I'm sorry you have to deal with him. It is the jerks like that teacher you described above who gives other teachers a bad name. Whatever grade you are in, I promise that the year goes by quickly. I was in a situation like you were years ago. It is awful to be in that situation, but you will eventually manage to get through it. Now, to get to my other point. I love this poem. From beginning to end, I was interested. I'm a bit curious, though. You do not have to answer this if you do not want to, but what do you mean by, "Next time you ask me why I am late, I will take the bait."

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