My School Poem by Chukwukere Timothy

I was born with a plastic spoon,
I have to make a golden spoon.
I hardly had a good day at school,
Though my teachers were from heaven,
And some like the devil,
My classroom had everything,
But lacks comfort.
Teachers bragging of handling over a hundred of us,
They taught us that too much of everything is poisonous.
In the classroom,
We're like sands.
You can't count.
My teachers still looks good every morning.
Their looks denies the headache,
How can they miss class?
Its easier than 40days fast.
I attended that school.
A school of gladiators.
I wasn't the best,
But I was surely far from the less.
A few stayed focus,
And many delights in derailing them and help them get lost,
So many get rust.
The school fence.
Its was made of glass,
Raise it today, to fall to pieces tomorrow.
The chairs in our class,
I'm not proud of any, even the ones in the front row.
Make it good, future outlaws will pull it down.
But I graduated, alive.
That's a testimony.
I wish I had more money,
I won't have miss a test kneeling under a sunny weather.
Soon the little birds will grow feather,
And fly further.
Never forgetting that we don't run,
From where we come from.
Even if we can't stop the rain.
Let's help those in the storm.
I can feel their pain.