Today's poem is dedicated to my 3B English 10 class, in particular a young man who has experienced great loss this year but has been so mature through these great adversities. He is by no means a peeping tom...just a joke from class.
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Peeping Toms
To one who mimes,
To one who encourages,
To one who loves English not,
To one who supports his peers,
To one who misses what he once had.
To one who earned a nickname
For what reason I now remember not.
To one who says his table mates do bully.
What?
Really?
Are those smiles not real?
Do those whispered conversations secrets reveal?
What?
Really?
The teacher knows...
Yes, she is aware...
Some would prefer to...
Hunt ducks.
Play sports
Eat lunch.
Dig a ditch...
Than of English partake.
Thus, when all "ai not", aka ain't's,
Removed they are.
When all blanks, 100's become.
When the young do teach the 29'ers again.
Then...only then...
Will days be filled with
Movies.
Free days.
Free time.
Easy A's.
Thus, in the meantime...
Mimes continue.
Peeps will be seen.
Secrets brought to light.
Papers planned.
Sentences composed.
With a laugh here,
A snicker there
And a cup of coffee in between.
To my very favorite 3B'ers,
Listen up!
Let's write right!
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