Foreign Language | Teen Ink

Foreign Language

May 30, 2013
By sheridan.leigh SILVER, New Prague, Minnesota
sheridan.leigh SILVER, New Prague, Minnesota
5 articles 0 photos 3 comments

It's more like a foreign language,
than knowledge I've been studying.
Comprehending WWI?
I'm just pretending.

In class,
I sit in the back
count the ceiling tiles
-78 to be exact.
read the cheesy posters,
scattered around the room
-"Learning is fun!"
Lied the sign.

And most often,
I doze through this discipline academy.
With a reoccurring head bang
to my desk full of drool.

It's not that I don't want prosperity.
To be rich, and have a full good life.
I just don't get it.
It's like a foreign language
more than my primary one it reads.

The teacher is lying to me.
I don't understand.
I will ask a stupid question,
and when I do,
all bats eyes
darted at me.

I sneak under my desk
hide my face with my hair
and my emotions with a smile.
No one can know I'm suffering,
not anyone at all.


The author's comments:
I was sitting in class, the back of Spanish 2B. I was doing exactly what stanza 2 states. I wrote this poem as it was playing in my reality. I had my head stuck in my iPad which is where I write all my poems. At the time in class we were suppose to be doing group work, but I was too stuck in writing this poem to pay attention. My teacher took it away, and unfortunately read my poem. Now my teacher never had much respect for me, she thought I was just here because I was being forced, and I just never cared about learning. When she read that poem, it's like something clicked. She gained major respect for me, dramatically. She was much nicer to me, and she seemed to care more about doings in her classroom. Luckily I passed the class with a C. This is just another poem of random words put together to make a melody. It's true beauty is that this is reality; for me, and I am sure many other students from all over.

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