English

Oh the horror
Of being a student 
Your teacher will make or break you
You either hate or adore her
Personally I like to ignore her

I might spew
Talking to
My old English teacher
I think I’ve met my Waterloo 

I hate English
This I can’t relinquish
For even though I can accomplish 
I can help but feel amateurish 

Words are hard
My brain likes to discard
Them into a graveyard
And I have to dig up bones 
In the back of my mind
Only to find stones

I can’t write what I feel
‘Cause what I feel is surreal 
Way too unreal 
What would be ideal
Is if my Ferris wheel 
Wouldn’t keep me stranded at the top 
Please mister mechanic
Use your sprocket wheel
Fix this immobile wheel
For this wheel is my Achilles heel
And it’s not made of steel