'High School Low' Poem by Thomas Biggy

'High School Low'



The authority stands high,
speaking of an unrevealing study.
The 'prisoners' sit,
tired and bored.

Sounding the heavenly bell,
brings joy to those who are trapped.
The stampede roars,
and the lecture is forgotten.

Still they loath the knowledge,
of the torturous next day.
When the first bell rings,
it's back to class one.

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