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Life at MMS – Poetry

Mackenzie M., Staff Writer

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Lunchtime

Third period drags its feet into the ground

I will it to go faster

To propel itself forward

I beg father time to make a few exceptions

To set his clock a few minutes forward

But he resists

So I sit

I suffer

For what seems like an hour

Then, The sweet, sweet sound

Oh that sound

The blaring sound of the bell ringing

That marks the end of third period

Next is lunch

I am free

 

An Ode to First Period

Oh, first period!

How early you are,

How irritating you can be.

You are the reason as to why I must wake up at 6 AM,

And not 8 AM.

How boring you are.

Do the teachers always put the most boring classes first?

Or are you boring because of how early you are

Oh, first period!

How I cannot seem to pay attention to you

How cumbersome you can be.

 

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