I’m tired of school already,
but it’s only the third week.
The third week of getting up early.
Struggling through homework
and crying during quizzes and tests.

I’m tired of all the injustice in the world.
All the murders, the crimes, the hate.
All the negativity in the world,
All the sad stories that nobody knows about.
And all the things that people don’t see.

I’m tired of all these expectations,
and decisions I have to make.
I still wish I was a little kid,
playing all day without a care in the world.
I wish it could be like that today.

I’m tired of all the racism and hate and prejudice.
How people treat each other,
and how people treat themselves.
How saying one word could destroy a life,
yet people still use it anyways.

I’m tired of all this war and fighting and arguing.
Is it really that hard to get along?
I wish world peace was possible,
but it seems too far away to even see.
How could one even grasp the concept, right?

I’m still tired of school, however.
As I sit, bored out of my mind, children are starving.
I sit at a desk, writing a poem,
While kids all around the world are dying for a education like mine.
I’m tired of writing poetry, because I’ll never be a poet.