In the schools,
There are a long typesetting from questions,
A high rooms,
I don't know, why do they high?
Why do they put iron on the air hole?
They mix up schools with prisons,
And I converse about schools.
I hear growling unlike the bell in any thing,
Did the tanks enter school?
This is the sound of water pump into headmaster room!
In spite of that,
The teachers be occupied,
By polish a peel of hypothesis,
They allege that the ways are straight,
And the human are another alphabet,
Resemble each other,
As the letters correspond in calligraphy booklet.
Comments about this poem (The Schools by Basim Al Oda )
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