Literary Analysis

Slam Poem

The End of School

I’m not sure when I entered the waiting room.

A waiting room that wreaked of death.

I feel like I’m just sitting waiting for the end of the year,

A month left but no energy left,

I was worked real hard like sled dog,

Sometimes I just feel like a worker with never ending hours,

Doing whatever the teacher tells you to do.

We are already into our schools and Fitz gives us impossible tasks to do,

It’s like pushing a bolder up a hill and having it roll back ever time,

I wish I was done with tests, done with giving presentation and I wish summer would come.

We all don’t want but we know we have to.

We have to put out the fire before we can go to bed.

We have to put on clothes before going to school.

We have to close this year out strong.




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