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A Little Schumtz on your Shirt
On a day like no other
Two kids were talking with each other.
One looks down
And expresses a frown.
Only to see a spot on his collar
The other laughs with great holler.
“Oh look, there’s a little schmutz on your shirt”
The boy sees the circle of dirt
The girl gives him a big smirk
The boy begins to wonder where this schmutz came from
He thinks back to when he first put it on
He woke up and showered, then brushed his teeth.
He opened the closet with all great grieve.
He hated school
Like a prison, but more brutal
Like a hospital, but more sickening
Like a home with no family
All he did was sit, learn, and repeat
First period begins
History class is his favorite subject
Learning about how society was and how we came to be
He loved to connect history with modern day
“War, revolutions, and fighting.
Love, peace, and happiness.
All the world has come together,
With the people who are blessed”
The bell rings for second period
He runs for english class
After forty-five minutes of listening on what a love poem is,
He begins to right to his lover,
Roses are red
Violets are blue
We lay on the grass
And see the beautiful moon.
Your hair so smooth
Your smile so lifting,
Your eyes they give
That special feeling.
The feeling of holding you tightly,
The feeling of protection from the world,
The feeling of sharing the same breath,
The feeling of never giving up,
That very feeling you feel as the waiter brings you the food,
Or that feeling when the ads end and the movie begins,
Or even that special feeling
When everything you dreamt of finally becomes reality
My dream is love, and it has surely come true,
All the days I want to spend, I want to spend them with you
The boy leaves the class in great excitement
Ready to express his love to his beautiful lady.
He couldn’t do it on an empty stomach,
So then he walked to the cafe.
“One chicken sandwich with extra fries,
And throw a little mustard on the side.
I’ll take the special beverage,
A mix of cola and sprite. A little average.”
Time for third period now
School sucks, with a total of five periods
Or classes, or hell, or whatever you want to call it
He walks into math class with his best friend
He talks about the angle of his lovers curves,
And the percentage that a bomb will drop on top of them,
And even the probability that his lover will deny him on his promposal
“Pythagorean theorem, Quadratic formula,
Angles, shapes, curves, and formulas.
One, two, three, four
Don’t show up to class? Well there’s the door”
The bell rings and the boy throws his papers in his bag
And he runs to his next class
Fourth period, science class
One more period until he sees his lover
So much excitement to show her his love poem
That he spills his gold and iron mixture on the lab table
“Mixtures, compounds, and elements.
Ions, isotopes, and sentiments.
Mix the red into the blue,
Oh boy that smells, like an old shoe.
Your mixture is radioactive, and your’s is on fire
And I know that guy who said he finished the lab is a liar.”
The bell rings the boy sprints out of class.
Time for gym, the last class.
The boy runs up with his fries and mustard,
But the bouncing movements that he ran with
Caused the mustard and fries to spill on his collar.
Without even noticing it, he ran to his lover.
Pulled out the paper with his poem,
And began to read.
She pointed out the spot, and laughed
“Oh look at you, what a mess.
How can I date a boy who can’t even dress.
Your clothes don’t match, and look at that spot.”
And she left him, leaving him with depression.