My Class

This poem is based on real people that were my students this past year.
-Doppleganger


They're my class staring,
-glaring and sharing
their apathy and hatred

-For me their teacher
the new targetted creature
To be dusted
- busted
Put on the shelf and rusted

No one has helped them
and here I am now
they won't bow
- and scrape to any old sham
the man, who says he has the plan
to succeed.

So I must reach them
teach them
Swallow my pride and beseech them

With facts and figures
But nothing else above
The simple concept of honesty and love



They're a motley mix
To reach them is the trick
To get inside their head
To know whats been said
to them
That's made them so angry

There's norm the pimp
Acting like a simp
looking for sympathy from the crowd

He thinks right and wrong
are in a shroud
As he smokes out and plays the game

He's a leader
a feeder
A damned soul eater

Trickin his girls for his dope
hanging his life with an
invisible rope

Danny the dope fiend
Sits next to him
Lookin for a high so he can swim

IN a bright shadowy fog
--With eyes half shut
He'd be a good student but

He sleeps in class, hoping to pass
cuz he knows math for his own sake
he'd be good if he'd just stay awake

Bitchin and Witchin next to him
is Nakietha Anne Toleram
With an attitude negative

Toward me and my skin
I know no matter what I do
--I can't win


Bob sits in the back
strummin guitar
His fingers walk despite the scar

Across his wrists in zig zagged motion
Cuz one day he got the -notion
That he wasn't much and no one told him different

So many students - these are just a few
With names, problems, hopes and dreams too
So many of 'em
I can't handle them
Not the discipline
or their wayward act
Just this all emcompassing fact

They're all human, babies ones at that
I love them dearly

BUt the saddes thing ,I almost touched
And saved them nearly.

To the Class of 2002 of McLean Educational Center.