My School

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  • Published : February 20, 2013
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My school, 
A place that will not,
Let me be me,
A place where,
Preps and Jocks are belonged.
That is not me.

My school, 
A place where,
Being popular is wanted.
A place where,
Athletes are recognized, 
And I am left in the dust.

My school,
A place where, 
Bass Dirty Bucks, 
Are a necessity.
A place where,
Shirts must stay tucked in,
And will not let me express myself.


My school, 
A place where,
Teachers are great,
A place where,
Lessons are learned. 
And leave me with good Morals.

My school,
A place where,
Friends are welcomed,
A place where,
Kindness fills my heart.
And a smile is on my face.

If this poem I wrote,
Started as negative,

Did it make me happy, 
In the end?

I walked through the gate of my old school,
Seeing myself with my friends, acting cool.
But now I am alone and with no friends,
My school days are over, the fun just ends.
I walked on the path, on which I walk several years ago,
Where I smile, laugh and cry but now am that so.
Slowly I opened the door of my old class room,
Seeing myself fighting with my friends with old broken broom. But now only memories are here with me and I am alone,
I wish those good days could come back but they are gone.
Suddenly I realize years ago my heaven was here,
I see myself talking and murmuring with my friends everywhere. I remember all my friends, whom I met on every sunrise,
“I really miss you all”, I said with tears in my eyes.
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