Life at MMS – Poetry
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.