School is a lollapalooza,
It’s really pretty bad,
And if school would be obliterated,
Boy, would I be glad.
Let’s talk about the breakfast,
That they serve to us in school,
They’ve given us year old cereal,
It’s really very cruel.
I’d expect a slumgullion,
But instead we get an ort,
We’re talking week old frozen bread,
I’d really like to snort.
We walk in in the morning,
With the temp at 62,
We open up our textbooks,
With our bodies frozen blue.
And while we’re learning algebra,
We study the quincunx,
Looking forward to leaving school,
And lying on our bunks.
But when we finally get to leave,
I am free however,
I will be having nightmares,
About this experience forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ah i miss complaining about school...