Why I'm Late For Class

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Dear teachers,

Don't mistake this poem as something that doesn't need to be heard. It does.

Let me guess as long as it's the answer to your math problem then our voice matters.

But if its anything else then it's all noise to you. A voice of another generation to hard

on your ears? She only wanted to use the bathroom and you refused. Now the whole

class must suffer in silence under the threat of detention. What do you you do when you

look in the eyes of a student not afraid of your threats? They are still no equal in your eye.

Call her parents, call the dean, if you coud you would call the coast gaurd on a 16 year old

girl who just wanted to use the bathroom. Words like bullets spray from her mouth just letting

you have it. All of her frustration and angst let out you stand there nostrils flaring but 

stunned that anyone under the thumb of your 2 period rule would say such a thing to you.

Finally she's kicked out. She has been sent home. The dust has setteled and we resume

our lesson plan. You turn around looking at the audience and say "Can you believe her?"

Yes we can. We can beieve her. She said everything we thought about you. If it wasn't her it

would have been one of us pusehed past the edge of our own restraint. We can beleive that

girl is 3 weeks pregnant and was just simply asking to go do something personal. Do you

ever stop and wonder what we go through? That maybe we can't leave all the drama of

our lives at the door. You were young once and made your mistakes. But you pretend 

they never happened and now you look down on us with disaproval. You give us your

speeches on our generation, "If you are the future of our nation I am worried. I stay up thinking

who's going to take care of me when I'm old." It won't be any of us that's for damn sure.

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