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Mondays suck. I'd rather pet a duck, Or maybe a lamb, 'Cuz they're so adorable, man.   You probably hate Mondays too, Enough to whack its inventor with a shoe.
The kids, they’re all whiteThey say they can write
Dear resentment, You make people grimace, you make people keep their distance. Yet I'm the one who carries you around, How can I put the joke on something else, when, I, myself, am the clown?
I just wanted to let you know that you are worth more than what I can show or tell or teach you.  If I tried, it would be like trying to encompass the sun in the description of a shadow. 
The first week of high school is always a bore,with syllabi and “getting to know you” quizzes, and “tips for surviving” lore.
  Irritating and annoying, Describes the horror of your class. I can barely stand you, And quite frankly you smell like bass.  
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