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Great Writing - Home > Poetry > Mornings
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Poetry
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| Mornings | |
| 16 December 2006 | ||||||||||
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my last three poems, including this one, was written the same day, actually.... too bored. The school production's finally over and the only thing we have to do before christmas break is die from the tests we never studied for because we were supposed to "focus on delivering the power of our song to the audience", who, by the way, were already snoring by the time I went onstage, open mouths and all. The nuns are calling our academic problems "a challenge, by which you should all work hard" which translated to normal english would be, "die, creep, die." I have a lot of things to do this weekend... but it doesn't stop me from going on to the internet!!! I'm so happy.. we have DSL!!! 100kps ... large number!! -bliss- wrote this while we were being scolded for "not giving it all"... Reluctantly, they start to move groggy voices singing wrong. Somber eyes contrasting fake smiles, hands on itching noses. Feet on feet, heel on knee hiding their little world, of giggles and kicks and parodies, of "What a Wonderful World." "What a wonderful world," they all would say, with eyes that would deceive, with numb, impatient, swaying hands, and mosquito-bitten feet. They squeal and squirm, hiding from the oblivious teachers' eyes, lip-singing unknown words, yearning for the bell's blessed peals.
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