this poem is about whatever you want it to be
about apples or pears or cheese that's free
if i was sitting on a bench
i'm sure i'd write this poem in french
but, alas, i'm on a terrace
doing homework for ms. ferris
i like sitting in the dark
that's not safe in a park
ivan is flapping the page of his book
Elena wrote the first line, known as the hook
Ivan hates school
He thinks he is cool
He just hurt Elena's feelings
so she just stares up at the ceiling
wake me up when october ends
maybe then we can be friends
i always think no one can hear me
but they can and so they fear me
I wish i could read every book
If i did, i'd be insane like clay cook
some babies are not worth feeding
because some people shouldn't be breeding
i woner yet if they've had sex
If they ha six people they'd form a hex
Should I punch his face
everytime they embrace
I wish ivan would tell the truth
he says he has and he has proof
I wish those people would go away
unfortunately they're here to stay
one's a skank, the other says dank
for this we have MTV to thank
I wish that my phone wasn't dead
I can't see my texts with people asking for head
A book is what Ivan wants to write
He could write it silently at night
Kirsten came then swiftly left
and disturbed our creativity, an act of theft
a grudge against her we do not hold
for she is kind, or so we're told
I cant wait to get out of this house
my parents torture is their only vice
Ivan wants to be a chef
When he's around Elena wishes she was deaf
she doesn't want this to be the end
of an awesome poem with an awesome friend