English Class

By
There she is- she sits there every day
In this torture they call 'English'
I think she's the only way
I pass this class
Because without her eyes
I wouldn't get the inspiration
To write a poem every day
And on occasion
In our poem exercise
Instead of memorizing a poem
I'll memorize those eyes
And as she sits there- her hair as gold as may
I wonder if she'd mind
If I married her one day

And I wonder if she'd ever think of me this way
Or write silly poems about English class
Just like I did today

There he is- he sits there every day
Is he looking at me?
Or am I in his way
Of seeing the teacher
That only gives me A's
Because of poems I write
About his dancing locks of waves
I know it seems silly
To crush on him this way
But he has this little smirk he gives
Whenever I say 'hey'
And I can't help but hope
That his eyes as bright as day
Might be the ones I look into
On my wedding day

And I wonder if he'd ever think of me this way
Or write silly poems about English class
Just like I did today





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback