I don’t want to rise.
I don’t want to dress.
I don’t want to wait in the cold,
for a stupid bus,
that might not come.
I don’t want to listen
to the teachers,
I don’t want to study
the stuff I’m going
to be tested on.
I don’t want to be tested at all.
I don’t want homework.
“How was your day? ”
“It pitched a perfect no-hitter.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem