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What's the point of even trying anymore? I’ve lost the fight And I don’t give a crap about you
I came to you when things were bad. the jokes, the names, Retard. Fag. Pussy. I came to you. My mentor, my leader. But you walked away. I just needed to toughen up.
We are here 180 days of the year.
As I walk down the halls in the prison known as school I see the clown kissing the cheer queen I see the Bull pushing the next Einstein down the hollowed stairs I see the Brick walls creating corners of the prison cells
You have a PhD, but somehow there are 10, yes TEN full pages of errors in your book, but you didn't tell us that until the end of the final! No wonder almost everyone in the class is failing.
The way you tell me to take out my pencil To write down the question and find the answer Your tone of voice and the look in your eyes I can tell you don't think I'm an adult. The law may say I am not
Administration claims to be unbiased, “Everyone will succeed.” That may be true; But, not by the likes of you. And the Award goes to, We mutter a name under our breath.
I look around At the school halls. And I think to myself, "This is hell." The teachers are boring, The students are dramatic, No one understands my struggle.
Stuff you can't say to your teacher is... hello your class is very boring & half of your class is snoring You're not teaching the material right & I hate the way you write Your breath really smells
Hello teachers, principals, and staff, This is our time, our mind, our thoughts, Now step back. Sit down, pay attention, focus
Yeah I got some shit but I ain't said nothin.
He sits at his desk night and day. He reads from the monitor its boring I say. He looks up and with a monotone face he opens his mouth its sexist today. I wish to put him away
You think you know it all A certificate on the wall means nothing If you can't see what's in front of your eyes The smiling faces of your students are just a facade
You see the smile plastered on her lips, dripping a story with a twist. Lies escape with every phrase, across your ears. You believe it's the truth she's laid. She seems like the perfect student, perfect girl; every strand without a curl.
I wandered around for as long as I could rememberSpring, Summer, Fall, WinterOops! Did I just messed up on the sequence of seasons?Oh yes I did! Now what can you do to me,O great teacher?
Mixtures of browns Mixtures of greens Smells of nature Smells of safety All rush by As I bolt by Bolt down this path Dirt on my feet Dust clouds behind me No bird sings
Whispers and Glares Look back and Run Down the hall to the left
It may be your classroom, It may be your class, But it's our education, And it's our future, We tell you over and over, Still you never listen, What if your way, isn't our way?
We are voiceless. Our feet are turned to iron. We're lobbed into a torrential river Of expectations. Ideals. They say, “The perfect child is ours. “No flaws here.
Teachers don’t work hard nowadays Rather than focus on education They focus on my grades I may have passed your damn class
I've started out the day todaySitting in my math class.But all that I can seem to noticeIs a flaw in my necklace.
Why are you so worriedAbout that girl that's texting?Why should her conversationStop me from learning?Why don't you just let her beAnd teach the other students?Why do you insist on always
A desk has reason on its surface But not always do they deserve us. We project our feelings and our distaste; We act like learning is all a race But we can trust, if all else fails
The freaks come out at night. I know that’s what they say. But you’ll surely be affright When you see creepers during the day. Sure, you’ve heard of creepers Lurking here and there,
I've never known fear like the day I found my sister's cuts. When she was younger, she was abused by her peers. It seems like a girl can't be tall or a little overweight, without being targeted.
Sheltered.I had no choiceIn the high school I attendedI am Catholic;Therefore, to a Catholic Ladies' schoolI shall go.
Sweaty palms and the nervous biting of my nails let me just start by saying that i hate pop quizzes Confused looks on my face don't mean i am stupid
Forget this Uncanny promblems you give me Can't comprehend what you're even talking about Kill me dead, I know I did the homework Thank God I have a year left
The school year has begun And my head is in a twirl 300 days until I’m a graduated girl. But those numbered days Will be full of pain and doubt “The source is from my teachers,” I think as I pout.
It's already 12 o'clock in the morning and I still have that essay to write. Do I finish graphing linear equations or study atomic structure? "Why didn't you do your homework?" you ask.
No holes in jeans and no thin straps on shirts. Only for girls. Teachers believe girls are the problems for poor attention spans. Clothing is the tip of endless problems.
When teachers stopped sleeping on the tables, Eating dinner in the cafeteria, Brushing their teeth in the bathroom,
You swear you know all of your students. You may know our names but you dont really know us. You see her over there with the thick black sweater even though we're in this place thats hot as hell?
“I’m in class and I’m happy” You amazed me “Even though you’re just one of those silly art teachers” Is what others say to rip at you But, you’re more of a professional when it comes to these fake others
Hey there, shithead! Yeah, you, The one with the degrees. Do you think sitting here, Being a student is a breeze? Do you think that we can Sit here for hours on end, Go home to do our chores,
Listen you say to get an A and do your work to succeed you say to ask questions about things i don't understand because there are no stupid questions but here I am infront of you
I do not know you, but I love you. Well, maybe not love but I think you're cuteIt was your smiling eyes that roped me in; almond shaped with and noiseless grinA vacant gaze that rolls away, it wrests the words I want to say
You can catch a fellow on his phone But you can't catch the glares and our outspoken growns Your forehead wrinkles represent a roaring see The most annoying roar that tortures me.
Math Class The hard uncomfortable seat that hurts my ass more than any other class, The shrill voice that lasts in my mind for hours, I dread walking through that door
Is it innapropriate to say I love you, too much PDA? Is it innapropriate to hug, even after a bad day? I thought kindness was key and killing a sin but in this backwards place
Four choices: Choose your answer fill it in on the sheet leave the others blank. WARNING: Do not erase! Your answer will be invalidated
DING!!! DING!!! Omg, I'm Late, Late To My 4th Period The Bell Just Had Rung Mr./Ms.______ Don't Yell At The Top Of Your Lungs Thats Why I Have Parents, To Nag, Talk, And Yell
Zero, is for the f***s I give whenever you tell me what to do. One, is for the amount of bullets it would take to be the end of you. Now if I were to continue counting in this poem you will be very shocked.
Teachers staring hard,So students get on guard.What is forced stress,But a meaningless mess?To learn is a one-sided card.
The dress code is a joke, Meant to make you choke. If not a size 0 you dont have it made. If your hips are too wide its not their problem they will say. Too short, too tight. Too loose, not right.
Free education? It comes with a price- Wasted time that will never return- Never learning- Because of the burn Of your pride and ego- No voice of our own Yet whipped by your words-
We sit in these uncomfortable seats as you lectureIts always too cold in your classroomYou get mad when you hear a mixture of irrelevant topicsYou use the same line every time for your doom
The difference between learning and simple education, is not only the spelling, grammar, or punctuation. The power of education is insurmountable to much, but the epiphany of learning, can't even be looked at as such.
I won't forget the time where you called me out: "the quietest people are those who think the most highly of themselves." I don't think you meant it in a harmful way, but it was a rude thing to say anyway.
12 years wasted.Living in hell. A cell. Because an education could pay my bail, that never stopped me.I wish I had the means back then to leave, but school or not, I'm exactly where I'd be.
Teacher, TeacherCan't you seeWhat this life is doing to me? Can't sleep at nightDue to memories and fearAnxiety chewing away at meA family that doesn't care
I am a lost canvas Why do I seem invisible?Why am I ignored?
I am open in my mind, open in my soul, I am open out loud but you don’t really know me. In my heart it means much more to me. I’m glad that you were there. I am glad that you said you cared,
Sh*t you cant tell your teacher Yo teach I love you...no homo Professor im not professing my passions But rather Your actions
they criticize at me. saying I am lazy and don't deserve to have a second chance. "you should have done the work I assigned" but they're not there for when the fights get too much
You laughed the day I walked into class, I was a number, expecting to pass. You wondered and questioned. How can it be? About a silly little Mexican, like me. You smiled and asked for a schedule,
If a tree falls and no one hears it, does it really make a sound If a student speaks, and no teacher hears it, is it actually profound? But if a student speaks, and a teacher hears it