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aoshi-shinomori- ā Campion, my school, my prison.
Published: 2004-03-03 23:49:21 +0000 UTC; Views: 198; Favourites: 4; Downloads: 7
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Description
They bring depression, anger and disappointment.Yet hardly ever do they bring,
What we all wish to feel, enjoyment.
This we call a Report Card
Why do they insist on us learning,
When they themselves need it more?
For him to die Iām always yearning.
His name is Mr. Thompson
The feared that will come at the end of this year,
Devours all hopes of merriment and fun,
The name of this we hate to hear.
That name, an exam, called CXC.
We go to that place once a day,
Many go there more.
The pissed-on building yellow but grey.
Its name is Campion
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Comments: 6
Oh gosh kinho, your comment... So funny... TEK POEM!
Well, Aoshi, your poem is funny as well, and actually really good! Especially the part about Mr. Thompson... "Why do they insist on us learning when they themselves need it more?" HAHAHAAHA! Good hand job, dude...
Saf
š: 0 ā©: 1
Thanks for the enthusisatic comment, wasn't expecting that.
Aoshi
š: 0 ā©: 0
wassup homie, yow yow dis up 2 d hiiiiiizzle, chizzle, up 2 d time, choo, choo choo! to yall Tek poem, u tink it ez? who u a ramp wid???
š: 0 ā©: 0
My first ever poem, so I don't expect much, my friends have written a few so I felt like writing one too.
Aoshi
š: 0 ā©: 0