February 8, 2009
By Scott Oslin BRONZE, Drakes Branch, Virginia
Scott Oslin BRONZE, Drakes Branch, Virginia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

These hallowed halls mean nothing to me.
Trapped here, devoid of glee,
forced to unstopping slavery.
Four years, and I'm free.

Teachers, instructors, whatever they are
Stretch long in lines, near and far.
Icy stares, orders mar,
Turning our ears to tar

Though it's truly only from eight to three
That we're trapped, devoid of glee
But then, homework, certainly!
Unlocking those bitter chains, till' we're weepy

Four years,
Trapped until we're just in tears
Summer vacation, till' Augustly fears
Begin to cause more grinding gears

To shift once more
Till our wills are no more.

The author's comments:
With starting the second semester at CHS, I sometimes feel as if all we are are little slaves doing tireless work.

Hope you enjoy, thogh I'm sure some will think my view is a tad one-sided and unjust.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Feb. 12 2009 at 12:02 am
i don't think its one sided. although some people may disagree everybody feels this way sometimes. i really liked the 4 line rhymes because those are pretty hard and you did it well


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