The dreaded school bell lets out its scream,
officially beginning our woeful lesson.
I sit and I stare at the board trying to concentrate,
but before I even start reading, I fall into my usual daydream of question marks and confusion.
The droning tones of the teachers lecture passes through my ears, leaving no imprint in my mind.
The sound of pens forcefully scratching on paper and whining pupils fill my ears.
What is the importance of knowing how a flower blossoms? Or why a bee is striped?
The teacher silently, swoops around the room in search of her next prey.
Who will suffer her gruelling punishment?
She walks past me, ready to strike on a boy slumping in his cupped hands and staring out onto the playground.
Why are we forced to come to this prison? Confined in a classroom and made to work?
Please help. I need some more ideas with my poem. Its due in tomorrow.?
.Hello. You will realise with age that these are the best days off your life. I used to get caned at school. Enjoy.
Reply:I answered your question! I like your poem
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