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Little Miss Nobody!

Amid the hustle and bustle of the school playground,
One young girl sits all alone.
As quiet as a mouse, she watches, but doesn't join in.
No-one pays her any attention.

She tells herself she prefers it that way,
But she is lying - to the world and to herself.
She's so lonely it tears at her insides,
But she steadfastly refuses to let it show.

What a jolly time her tormentors would have
If they knew how much their teasing hurt her.
How mortifying that would be!
So, she sits, quietly, patiently, till the bell rings to go inside.

But the classroom brings no solace, either.
She sits as far to the back as possible.
The teacher asks the class a question.
She knows the answer, but won't raise her hand!
Heaven forbid!
Everyone would look at her - notice her!
Better to try to be invisible, a non-person!

Soon, the school day will be over.

Hopefully she will be able to avoid the recognition
Of those that taunt her, long enough to get her coat
And be on her way without incident.
Maybe she'll be gone before they see her
And decide to play their cruel games with her.

The favourite is the one where one of them 'accidentally' touches her,
Then runs around, screaming that he or she has caught a nasty plague -
Or disease, or fleas. or whatever -
And has to touch someone else to pass it on!
That one's always good for a laugh!
For everyone else, anyway!
For her it's like a knife through her heart!
Every time!
And it never gets old! ! ! !

But none of them know!
None of them will EVER know how caustic their gibes are!
She'll make sure of that..........even if it kills her! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

poem by Dawn Ferrett
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High School sweethearts

started out as high school swwethearts
i sit in front of class
he sits in the back
i pass him his worksheet
he says come sit back here with me
i think to myself
he seems new here
so i sit back there to help
turn out he didnt need it
then i look in to his eyes
what a surprise
he seems so cute
the teacher tell us to hush
so i pass him a note
he reads do you like me yes no maybe
he writes back yes lol you crazy
then the bell rings for lunch
so he set to himself
i came and set with
he ask whats my name
i say bri
he says sweet
my name james
so we go back to class
doin our classwork
this is our sophomore year
we hook up
2 years go by
he went to
a different school
this is now our senior year
class of 2010
heart school sweethearts
never part
even when he change school
so what does that tell you
nothing is impossible

poem by Briangela Jones
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L'ecole

School is such a wreck
School is such a bore
Especially with all the stupid little whores
The time drags on
As the teacher talks some more
School is such a bore
School it makes me sick!

Lunch is too short, and class is too long
Everyone is lame
And everyone just wants to play their stupid games
We want to hang out
We want to kickback
We want to leave school
Lets have another walk-out
Maybe even break-out!

School is such a bore
School is such a wreck
I wonder when we get to leave?
As soon as the bell rings?
My teacher looks like an ugly duck
I hope he'll finally shut up!
Hurray! Hurray!
The bell finally rung!

poem by Starrbox Munoz
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He is Everywhere

He goes out of the school for a quick fag
and comes back to the class to tell a gag.
His tail around the powers he doesn't wag
and to snag the awards he carries no bag.

The officers often choose the weak to nag
but about his talents his students would brag.
Dares to scare him even an immoral hag
for the average results by this poor dag.

Some vandals too question him and rag,
into the mire, him they try to drag.
To fight for the good pay, he doesn't lag.
He welcomes the learned, his teaching to slag.

Seeking solace to mind, he sits calm on a crag.
But in the classroom, he is always a wag.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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A School Is So Not Cool

School Is Not So Cool

School, School, School,
A school is not cool
We're here 5 days a week
8 hours a day.
School, School, School,
A school is not cool.
People laugh when we fall
we just have to make a call.
School, School, School
A school is not cool.
We have to work hard to get good grades
I'm not going to do it no more
I do it every day.
We can’t go on the grass
We can’t bother another class
We can’t save spots at lunch
We have to go as a bunch.
We have 3 minutes in the hall
I'm always late what a ball.
We have to pay attention
if not we get detention.
School, School, School,
A school is not cool.
They have too many rules
they play us as fools
if we get A's
the parents jump Hip Hip Hooray.
If we get F's
we tell them we need to take a rest.
We always have homework
we never have class work
they have to many rules
they need to take it cool.
School, School, School,
A school is so not cool!

poem by Fahed Sharaf
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Little Girl in the Window

There's a little girl in a window looking sweetly at you
She know you and admires you
Yet you don't even know her name
She quietly sits by you in class and wtaches you in the halls
Never talking, just writing
She loves you, don't you know?
But you can't even see it,
You don't see her.
The girl is loosing hope in all she knew
For school is almost over and you'll be gone forever
She knows that she's not pretty enough,
That she's too quiet
Yet she still loves to watch you from her window,
Always having to look in, never wanted
Now it's 2049,30 years have passed
You casually talk to your friends again at your reunion
A girl you once knew tells about the girl in the window
She committed suicide...
As you finally see this little girl, read her things
You realize who she truly was
You finally see the little girl in the window.
Except she is still 14
And you 48
You see that was was pretty and amazing
Yet you neer knew
With the truth known,
You look once more at this girl
And offer her a silent prayer
Saying the final goodbye to the little girl in the window

poem by Corey Mason
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A Lonely One Room School

It is now old and in need of paint
Sits alone in a field of grass
Poor little lonely one room school
So long ago since it’s had class

If only it could tell us stories
Of the children who sat in its seats
Buzzing with exciting chatter
Never thinking they’d face defeat

School books worn on the corners
For turning down pages a thing to do
Buckets design for their small lunches
Old-fashioned hats that set askew

Oh listen, can you hear the laughter?
Reciting their lessons every day
Recess time in the school yard
It was important to take time to play

But you know, nothing lasts forever
Except, of course, the golden rule
I feel a bit sad when I look upon
This precious lonely one room school!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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And The Teacher Goes Out!

He sits alone; they think he is dull,
In the last desk of the class; he paints
a world of his own-a teacher enters!
His eyes brighten once again, a sheer
hope of determination brings back the
glee as the pupils change their color
from the former noisy bees to submissive
sloths. Once again he hopes the teacher
will look at him, will advise or appreciate
like he glorifies the star pupils.
The teacher stands, there is a bewildering
silence, he turns the pages as he moves
forward, waves of joy arise in the heart
of the urchin for he has waited all these
days to be loved, to be cared and granted
like the other pupils. A question is posed
and the clever ones shout in a hundred
thunders, amidst which his answer is lost
just like the ripples which arise and vanish
quickly. The bell rings and without a single
glimpse into the eyes of the urchin, the
teacher goes out! !

poem by Saket Suman
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School Is Not So Cool

School, School, School,
A school is not so cool
We're here 5 days a week
8 hours a day.
School, School, School,
A school is not so cool.
People laugh when we fall
we just have to make a call.
School, School, School
A school is not so cool.
We have to work hard to get good grades
I'm not going to do it no more
I do it everyday.
We cant go on the grass
We cant bother another class
We cant save spots at lunch
We have to go as a bunch.
We have 3 minutes in the hall
I'm always late what a ball.
We have to pay attention
if not we get detention.
School, School, School,
A school is not so cool.
They have to many rules
they play us as fools
if we get A's
the parents jump Hip Hip Hooray.
If we get F's
we tell them we need to take a rest.
We always have homework
we never have classwork
they have to many rules
they need to take it cool.
School, School, School,
A school is so not cool!

poem by Chantel Braatz
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One Child's Hero

In her eyes he's a marvellous super man
And her daddy is the greatest to seven years old Ann
And she tells all who listen there is nothing Dad can't do
But others they think differently each to their point of view.

Her dad is not a hero in the bigger World out there
He cannot go to work for pay he sits in his wheel chair
And looks out on the backyard and a lone pittosporum tree
Where blackbird builds her nest in Spring and raise her family.

But to all who care to listen the young primary school girl say
My daddy is my hero and as my hero he will stay
He tells me marvellous stories and his stories I enjoy
Of the fun he and his mates had when he was a school going boy

In the big World out there her dad almost unknown
And any sort of hero worship to him is never shown
Yet only of his praises one little girl does sing
And to her he is far greater than any living king.

To one child he is a hero and her feelings for him are true
And even in the World out there true heroes are so very few
He sits and looks out on the backyard and little there for him to see
A male blackbird chirps and then flies off from branch of lone pittosporum tree.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Losing Grip

Losing grip she holds to life,
She tells herself she won't let go,
Yet here she sits holding the knife,
Moving it ever so slow.

She sits beside her bed,
Knife pressed to skin,
Knees drawn to her head,
For she knows this is a sin.

Tears fall from her eyes,
They fall against the cuts,
Until the blood begin to dry,
She doesn't like this habbit, yet she's stuck in it's rut.

Her head falls back,
As sobs break the silence of the air,
Crys pour from her thoat, yet in volume they lack.
At the back of her eyelids she stairs.

Her hair falls around her,
A warm brown shall,
Not even the touch of a hand would make her stir,
As she listens to her creators call.

Along the slits she traces,
Time after time, line after line,
Forming a pattern like lace,
The paths, the cuts, so even, so fine.

pain shows through her face,
yet she drinks this pain, it is her feast,
Along her wrist, her body, the blood does trace,
She feels the least.

in the depth of the room,
She sits with nothing, no light,
Only the shine of the moon.
She knows sha can't stop, yet it feels so right.

The anger, the sorrow, flows through her, it all leaves,
The blood wipes it away, let's her feel numb,
A blanket of blood is weaved.
Her heart beats; a steady drum.

She looks down at her art,
When all the feelings are gone,
She stands, and slows her heart,
And waits for dawn.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like a girl

Like a girl whose feet are bleeding and swollen
From walking a long,
Long distance to school
Like a girl who pants in pangs and pains
Because she works tirelessly
Doing this and that
You know these domestic chores.
Like a girl whose clitoris is protruding
Not because she is longing for the stick
But because someone has forced himself into her
Like a girl whose genitalia leak blood
Not because she is in 'time'
But because she has been raped
Like a girl who sings alone
In melancholia, a girl who cries alone
Because she remembers her dead parents
Who cries and curses AIDS
Like a girl who sits alone in the dunes
In secluded spaces and prays much
Because she has lost hope in life
Like a girl who sits in the staircase
And looks at the horizon and ponders over her burdens
Over her thousand predicaments
Like a girl who looks at the sky
At night, who counts stars hoping that one day
The One who created those amazing stars
Will answer her prayers
Like a girl who dances in the darkness
Who listens to the music to soothe the pains
Like a girl who wants no man
Because she believes men bring curses with them
Like a girl who plays alone
A young girl who plays alone in the yard
Like a girl who cannot go to school
Because she has to take care of her siblings
Like a girl who will survive no matter what
Who will continue achieving unachievable goals in life
Like a girl who has a soldiers’ courage

poem by Zolani Kupe
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Nostalgia-tine

A time
Not so long ago
Was a school boy
He was tender in the heart

In the very same school class
Was a young school girl
Very smart,

Locked inside his empty shyness
This school boy
Wanted to, , ,
Talk to this pretty girl
Boldly, this day,
She set her hair in sophisticated curls

And what he wanted to say, , , was
Can you,
'Come out and play'
Inside he thought
I will do this, just on another day..

In the month of February
Exchanging cards was customary

On this school girls desk
Sat a box
Skilfully decorated
And craftily created
In the colors of the season
Red, Bright and White
Wow, the boy thought
'What a glaring sight'!

A little slot cut on the top
A place to make a dropp
Secure and sealed this
Decorated box
Its job was
Safeguarding all her precious
Little cards

Breaking from his school boy shyness
Reaching inside his pocket
Where kept his
Hand painted card
Drawn upon the white paper
Is his little heart

Howard Johnson

poem by Howard Johnson
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Little White School House

As I drove from the city
With one thing in mind
Was to see my old school
Where I spent most of my time.
I could barely see it
Coming fresh into view
Somewhat strained in the distance
The place that contribted to what I knew.

There stood the ole school house
Up the road just a piece.
As I drove through the woods
My heart thumped with anxiety.
As I heard so faintly
The laughter of children playing
It was a bit distorted
I couldn't make out what they were saying.

I saw the old Merry Go Round
In my imagination going around and around.
Seeing old school mates
Pushing and pushing hard
To make it go faster
Just running not making a sound.
Sometimes slipping and falling
Sometimes even dragging the ground.

Recess and fun wasn't going to last.
Fun time so quickly slipped away
Even work time seemed to pass.
But I could hear our schoolmarm
Gently ringing her bell
Then she would so calmly say
Children, lunchtime is over
As we'd all let go of the rail.

As I drove a little farther
I could see childen wave.
We'll see you tomorrow
And for no apparent reason
I believed what they would say.
And sure enough the next morning
We were all back at school
Joking and teasing but obeying the rule.

I backed up my car looking once again
Seeing where many of us spent our days
At the Little White School House on the hill
Just to sing, laugh or play.
But long are the days gone
When you would hear
The principal 'Mrs. Kennedy'
So kindly sing and say.

Good Morning to you
Good Morning to you.
We're all in our places
With sun shiny faces.
Oh this is the way
To start a new day.
At work or at play
At school everday.

poem by Cecelia Weir
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Invisible Kid

Invisible kid
Never see what he did
Got stuck where he hid
Fallen through the grid
Invisible kid
Got a place of his own
Where he'll never be known
Inward he's grown
Invisible kid
Locked away in his brain
From the shame ant the pain
World down the drain
Invisible kid
Suspicious of your touch
Don't want no crutch
But it's all too much
I hide inside
I hurt inside
I hide inside, but I'll show you
I'm OK, just go away
Into distance let me fade
I'm OK, just go away
I'm OK, but please don't stray too far
Open your heart
I'm beating right here
Open your mind
I'm being right here, right now
Open your heart
I'm beating right here
Open your mind
I'm being right here, right now
Ooh, what a good boy you are
Out of the way and you're kept to yourself
Ooh, can't you see that he's not here
He doesn't want the attention you give
Ooh, Unplugging from it all
Invisible kid floats alone in his room
Ooh, what a quiet boy you are
He looks so calm floating 'round and around in himself

song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Algebra II Tests And Sunny Skies

He sits.
A calculator is set off to the side
As he furiously scribbles on the page in front of him,
Trying to finish.

There’s nothing but the buzz of fluorescent lights
In this classroom after school.
Paper shuffles and a breeze startles the blinds,
His concentration dissolving as they smack into the wall.

And he sits up again,
Concentrates,
Chewing a stick of gum quietly,
He focuses.

Thinks of his prison of parabolas,
He erases, then scribbles some more,
Finishing his test,
Wishing for naught more than the freedom of a soccer field.

poem by Melissa Nikolova
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The Best School of All

It's good to see the school we knew,
the land of youth and dream.
To greet again the rule we knew,
before we took the stream.
Though long we've missed the sight of her,
Out hearts may not forget:
We've lost the old delight of her,
We keep her honour yet.

Chorus:
We'll honour yet the school we knew
The best school of all
We'll honour yet the rule we knew
Till the last bell call
For working days or holidays
And glad or melancholy days
They were great days and jolly days
At the best school of all

The stars and sounding vanities
That half the crowd bewitch.
What are they but inanities
To him that treads the pitch?
And where's the welth I'm wondering,
Could buy the cheers that roll
When the last charge goes thundering
Towards the twilight goal?

Then men that tanned the hide of us,
Our daily foes and friends,
They shall not lose their pride of us,
However the journey ends.
Their voice to us who sing of it,
No more its message bears,
But the round world shall ring of it,
And all we are be theirs.

To speak of fame a venture is,
There's little here can bide,
But we may face the centuries,
And dare the deepending tide;
for though the dust that's part of us,
To dust again be gone,
Yet here shall beat the heart of us,
The school we handed on!

We'll honour yet the school we knew
The best school of all
We'll honour yet the rule we knew
Till the last bell call
For working days or holidays
And glad or melancholy days
They were great days and jolly days
At the best school of all

poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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The Soldiers Family

I watch this big brave man as he rests in his chair
He sits so quiet and still, he doesn't notice me there
He watches the TV screen, not seeing anything at all
A tear runs down his face, his life with his son he recalls

His little boy grew up, and left home to find his way
Daddy thinks about him all the time now that he's gone away
He worked so many hours, didn't have much time with him
He wanted him to have the best, to cater to every whim

The son joined the army out of high school and went away to train
And now dad worries all the time, please don't let my boy be slain
Daddy's heart is broken to pieces, till his son can safely return
The pain in his heart so deep, a stabbing steady burn

Why can't we end this war, not lose anymore of our children
They leave as teenage boys and if they return, broken men
So many tears and broken hearts, our children going to fight
Families wrecked and worried, not knowing their children's plight.

God bless our troops and the families they leave behind
They fighting for our honor and freedom for all man kind
The blood flows like red rivers, we need to end this soon
Please bring every soldier safely back home, and all their platoon!

Dedicated to my wonderful husband and son and everyone else who has a loved fighting a war. Please god bring them home!
By Dogs4donna

poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Destroyed

Her sits a girl sad and all alone.
She wishes she could have a happy life.
She only wants to be free.
But bad memories stain her heart.

Rape and abuse all her life.
It was all she ever knew.
Right from the start and the beginning.
The girl wishes for a knew tommorrow.

She sits all alone.
The memories and the voices.
Getting to her once more.
She hates it all but what can she do?

Her heart has died.
And she has been destroyed.
She can't trust now.
All men seem to be her enemy.
She wont go far alone.
She hates going out.

Her sits the girl.
All locked away.
She hides herself away hating the world.
Inside her shttered heart she is destroyed.

Rape messed up her head
And it wrecked her heat soul and mind.

Her shattered heart lays on the floor in bits.
May it forever rest in peace

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Little Miss Nobody!

Related quotes

High School sweethearts

L'ecole

He is Everywhere

A School Is So Not Cool

Little Girl in the Window

A Lonely One Room School

And The Teacher Goes Out!

School Is Not So Cool

One Child's Hero

Losing Grip

We're Going To Be Friends

We Are Going To Be Friends

Like a girl

Nostalgia-tine

Little White School House

Invisible Kid

Algebra II Tests And Sunny Skies

The Best School of All

The Soldiers Family

Destroyed

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Little Miss Nobody!

Related quotes

High School sweethearts

L'ecole

He is Everywhere

A School Is So Not Cool

Little Girl in the Window

A Lonely One Room School

And The Teacher Goes Out!

School Is Not So Cool

One Child's Hero

Losing Grip

We're Going To Be Friends

We Are Going To Be Friends

Like a girl

Nostalgia-tine

Little White School House

Invisible Kid

Algebra II Tests And Sunny Skies

The Best School of All

The Soldiers Family

Destroyed

En.Citatepedia^®.ro