PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Math Class Nightmare


My biggest fear-

On a drowsy Monday,

8 a.m. math class

My eyes are closing,

My stomach's churning,

Gas station breakfast burritos again.

I drift off

But suddenly, it happens.

Resonating in my plastic chair,

My classmates faces scrunched up in pain.

The stench, oh the stench!

Like sulphur and road kill.

I'm not getting asked to prom.

 

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.