I could feel the cold glares caressing my body,

as I pass the class I dread so much.

The life that was once in English class previous years ago,

now drained lifelessly out of all my classmates.

Leaving me alone, to fend against this evil being we call

the English teacher.

He hands out prison sheets to anyone,

who dare express the slightest bit of emotion or individuality.

Expecting us all to abide to his horrible rules.

Basing our grade off our character when all he is doing is

falling into favoritism’s harsh grasp.

All we can do is hope that this year will end quickly.

That the light inside all of us will once again shine brightly.

That we, as a group of  creative individuals will slay this beast

that kills our imagination and creativity.

That we will walk out of this horrible place,

with our mentality back.