She made her way, down the
desolate hall
She was late for school
But with it being winter an' all
Stuck in a traffic jam,
upon the old
school bus
Her teacher would be angry
and would probably make a fuss
She arrived at the gate,
around ten past nine
Walking down
the empty corridor
her shoes, echoing in time
to the beat of her walk
as she hurried along
Panting, out of breath
Telling herself to stay strong
'YOU, THERE GIRL!
YOU'RE LATE!
WHAT TIME DO YOU
CALL THIS! ? '
'I'M SORRY, SIR!
IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN! '
But her voice echoed
in the mist
of the school breeze
That had suddenly come along
Engulfing pupil and teacher
Who had played out
the very same song
Everyday for years
within that desolate school
Two spirits joined together
And the teacher he stil
RULED
{Copyright}
{c} 2007
{All Rights Reserved}
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem