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The teacher told me to study more. My family wanted me to do well in school, And because of the teacher, my grades began to soar.   Studying soon became a chore,
Papers stuffed neatly into their respective folders,            Textbook clenched tightly against my side, I turn to face the dawn.             My mother stands against the light.
High school good days, snickering in the hall ways, Laughing in the locker room, Bathing in perfume, Running late to class, Just bothering enough to pass, Now on to college days,
Am I proud to be a Bulldog? I always used to be. Am I proud of how my school values sports  Over academics? No.  Am I proud of how no one cares about the success of  Our music department
I’ve always enjoyed reading, writing, learning But I’ve never enjoyed having to attend school Ever since childhood, school has made me feel…
  Staring over the steaming fumes,prophetic wisps, tendrils of the muck,rising up and twisting in her nose,   Eyes bloodshot,covers torn asunder,an empty bed lays in ruins,  
Birth of new born killers high end thrillers sparse chances, taken with unease  beans and peas, mark disease and players can't see me 'cause I was never on a team in the first dream, I ever had
I came to be challenged.I wanted to learnTo program with Python,A skill that I've earned.But now, in-between meAnd doing my best,Stands you, full of mercy,Who's teaching the rest.
Sitting in my seat; doing so alone. They say smile, be kind, and make new friends. Tell me, admin, how easy that was for you. Tell me, teacher, how to smile in a room of strangers.
 The clockwork of the year is rusty after a summer spent in blissful timlessness. Everywhere the cogs of the machine resist sudden jostling and bemoan the meer mention of clinking back into place.
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