Sh*t you can't say to your teacher

Learn more about other poetry terms

Teacher, I can't do this anymore. I can't handle this work you're giving me. It's too much.
It is 8 o'clock in the morning, I would much rather be in bed snoring. You keep pestering us with your questions, I would like to leave you with some suggestions.   
Yo Teach, I'm here to turn my life around. Feels so good to have my feet on solid ground The challenge is...I need a near perfect score So I can get myself through a solid grad school door
Why is it, That no matter how hard you try at it, It's only about the grades today?   No matter if you get it or not Or what knowledge you've got! It's only about the grades today.  
There in the corner of the room  a dusty old Jukebox
You try to teach a fish how to climb a tree,Rather than how it can explore the ocean. You show a child the multiplication table, Instead of the beauty around them.
You tap your hands on the table, and whisper "I'm waiting" ignoring the fact that only one student is behaving.  
Here's our school spirit Yeah, you gotta hear it echoing through the halls. Dead silence because filth and violence are the main events this fall   We represent our lovely school
Mrs. Right held my essay The one I worked on for days She slashed through it with her bloody sword Declaired my words dead Claimed that they made no sense   What she saw were plain words
This school is really quite great But there are things that I'd change I'd start school more late Starting at 8:07 is pretty strange   Mr.Humphrey is so cute Everyday he wears a suit
I have stopped counting the number of days when I feel unable to do anything But sit on my bedroom’s carpet and allow my fingernails to create moon-shaped marks on my skin.
Every day when I walk into your classroom,
I try. That is all I can do, All I know how to do. Yet my principal says that's not good enough, My counselor says I need a higher goal. But what is it worth telling them?
Tommy needs help solving a problem ha! he needs to be lock up in an asylum  who wants to find the volume of a barrel with a hole and a steady leakage,call them     Formulas to remember 
Disabled by your homework Surrounded by students that twerk I am more than mentally distressed and hurt. I'm headed toward the state of being mentally incapable of existing in reality.
There are people dying out there People hungry, people homeless. And these people in here Could be making a difference.
It’s a school of honors and honor students Who balance themselves on the edge Of excellence and nothingness And everyday  The paper, books, sentences, numbers, deadlines Crush them
 The lessons, the homework, the sleepless nights, so much noise. All while trying to keep on a smile with poise?
So me and my statistics teacher have this thing where I ask  something, and he gives me a sarcastic answer. Yeah, it's not funny. "Hey Mr.Jones, can I use the bathroom?" Whatever makes you happy Treasure.
Sometimes in school I hear the remnants Of an orchestra concerto But then I shake my head and think to myself,  ‘This can’t be so!’
Your voice is a scarf and I can’t help but feel warm as it wraps around me. You’re an invigorating interval
Yes! I'm listening, I'm paying attention! But it might be a little easier if you spoke with some passion! Poor Jimmy to left is struggling to stay awake, And Kimmy stopped coming, instead of showing up late!
I acted happy because what else could I do
Being a good student means the ability to memorize. Yet, the teacher doesn't know their students names or look them in the eyes. Teachers should support their students to expand their knowledge.
Ever since elementary it's been the way To change things, to obtain things, to let them hear what you have to say
I am bored. My life is nothing But school work  And people.  The people only serve to make me feel lost in a sea of faces.   I am erased. The color in my soul dulled
The teachers see me But they don’t see me To them I am Another desk Another essay Another test I don’t want to feel like a statistic I want you to at least Attempt
You sit here at your desk, Marking up C- papers and Yelling for silence. As kids throw pencils, Some doze off, While others don’t even bother showing up. You buy all materials
   
You tell us to be ourselves,
oh you suck! How dare you treat me as untelligence  I know who wrote these poems, I read you know Maybe you don't, because your too busy poking you nose into other people's business
I am a reader, a thinker, a doer. I can love and lose and heal. Though my dreams are grandeur. Teachers want me to fit their ideal.   I can count and I can add. My English skills are elite
What can't I say to my teacher?​I can say everything.But I don't.
Here we gather, for here is where we learn. It is not ideal, yet not due to a lack in dedication. An education is for what we yearn.
Teacher, oh dear, there's something i've been meaning to tell you all year I'd call you a b*tch, but that's rather mundane maybe a scullion, but alas, it's arcane  
Standing at attention in front of their white background to yell and scream with hopes that you will reach me That you will reach the depths of my mind in time.
Oh man, I feel so sick,
Teachers don't teach us          Students teach us how to learn        Teachers just follow       
You're here for a reason. You serve a great purpose. So why through the seasons haven't you breached the surface? In a class full of many, I feel like one person not of the student body but isolated and searching 
463 names written on the library walls older than  you and all you have to  offer the world is a low GPA and an even lower self-depricating mind? What a way to exist, my dear
You know that girl? The one that sits in the back? Quiet and lonely, But sharp as a tack. You think nothing of it, To torment her everyday. But inside she is dying, Dying of your ways.
I came to school for an education. They promised me a brighter future. However, with teachers as incompetent as mine, I think I'm gonna need a tutor. No I don't want to hear about your problems. 
A mother Junco has two chicks from the same mate. Some more mates come and go. Two more beautiful baby birds are welcomed. With mother always moving, they grow up without me, learning how
Lines, graphs and shapes are traced, Vocabulary words are cut and paste, Color in the elements and their atomic mass,
I walk the halls, getting one last look at the walls. They've never looked so pretty, as I imbed them into memory.   I can still hear the screams, and see the lights beam, as I stand alone,
I walk into the classroom and look around. I see bare, ugly walls. I sit down in a stiff desk, and my back begins to ache. I look at the students. On my left, there is a stuck up girl with blond hair.
Teachers, they do not seem to see That no one learns exactly like me. I learn real fast, but some learn real slow And teachers, they never know what pace to go.
You think you know the world in its whole You think you know the real stories and events You think they teach you facts but they glamorize the lies They say Thanksgiving started as friendship and sharing
I am much more than another number, Generated in cold scantron machines, Counted by people who don't remember, When they were under this scheme.  
In elementary, it was nothing but.“My dear, my dear,this goes here not there.”But I couldn’t even comprehend why a man would wantto
To sit is to hold time. When time seems endless, I tend to drift. My actions anger you. But what about yours? Do you not see what I seek? Do you not understand my human needs?
I sit in my class surrounded by numbers Waiting for an explanation, but still ending with wonders How does this work, and what to do next Why does math have to be so complex?
She screams in frustration, tossing her work across the room, crumpling into a sobbing mess, wishing for it all to make sense.
twelve years i've been stuck here. twleve long years of hell. two hundred and ten days left, i'm a bit excited if you can tell. twelve years i've been stuck here, sitting in this stupid chair,
The world weighs heavy on my soul; it threatens to crush everything that’s been building up within me. I believe that I am fragile and in this very predicament, I am breaking apart at the seams.
Sit down at a desk, do your work, go home. Do your work, sit down at a desk, go home. Go home, do your work, sit down at a desk. No social interaction. Why? Cliques, teams, stereotypes,
Taken... Gone... Shattered... Silenced... I blithely gazed into what I would become... Oh, how I was so young... I had it locked in my arms and branded in my mind... I was one with potential...
I'm getting a zero because I didn't do my homework? Oh, and that zero is going to bring my grade down three points? Okay. Yeah, it's my fault for not turning it in. I'm sorry.  
 Do you know what I mean when I say, "sexing your life away"? Girls 13, 14, and 15 are quick to lay, not even knowing that they may regret it some day.
Sitting at my desk, and can’t sit still The teacher starts yelling, I’m like, “bro just chill.” I need to sleep; I stayed up all night… Can I listen to some music? Stop being uptight!  
You stand at the front of the room. You talk on and on about all the work we need to get done. Can we work yet? You keep talking. Explaining things we already know for the third time.
You're my English teacher, not my father. You say that you're trying to help but please, don't even bother. You have good intentions I must say. But that attitude, at the door it must stay.
Try Teach me how to derive An equation for what it means to be alive Can’t See, there’s no secant line From where I am to the future I have in mind Say, What does it mean to be right?
At the beginning of every term, Comes a brand new start,  Minds refreshed Promises made within our hearts. Sitting on edge, bodies squirm. New changes, same old faces.  
I wouldn’t sit in this deskI wouldn’t stare at the ceilingI wouldn’t take apart my penI wouldn’t tap profusely
Nobody sees them, it's as if no one cares Alone they sit, no shine in their eyes They sift through a book, they look at their phone The clock can't go fast enough
I spoke with a silent tone, trapped in my own mind. Blankly staring, cold to the bone. My words can't be defined.  
What? What do I do again Can you repeat that How do i do this These questions annoy me and the teachers You can see it when their shoulders slump and eyebrows are done
We have one tutor, for a class of kids. How do you expect me, to learn like this?   One tutor to do all of this? You hardly even make it down your list.   I like you a lot
Why the detachments? Why let your emotions affect how you teach? Don’t let our grades affect us, Just ‘cause your feeling down, down, down.
All you did was stand there, Eyes taking in the scene While he tore me apart like a grizzly bear.   Teachers are educators, mentors, and role models, But why should I look up to someone
Classrooms full of idiots,Parents teach their children to misbehave.Expected to be respected,but vocabulary isn't maintained.Students walk into the classroomspants sagging to the floor, 
Why Am I Like This? My style is too damn hot. I just ask my swag.
Dig
Dig deep. What do I find?More pocket lint, but I'll be fine.Pinched pennies equate to dimes.A quarter for the meter maid.Or a quarter for a minute made.In that minute a decision is made. 
Inspire Inspire Is that not your job To show me my way. Your heart only beats for the subject beats for the paycheck Not for your disciples Light the way We all need it
"Push to be the greatest." That's what is always said. "You can't settle for second best." This is the curse upon my head. One simple test in my third grade year, From then on, I'm nothing but a number.
You do not understand. I try to come here, this institution of "education". I want to learn. I ache to learn. Staying out past curfew Twiddling my two thumbs to fucking think of a clue. A clue?
the teachers are bogus they say the are observent but they never notice the kid treated like a servant they push him to the ground they kick him around and the teachers avert their eyes
I checked the clock it's way past time Why don't you smile? And light up this dreadful hall.  These fluorescent  lights burn into my soul and please don't smirk when I say:
Kids think they're so cool these days saying whatever they want. They think they're smarter than you because thats what they're taught. With no guidance at home or bad influences in school
In your little class, I am but a little busy bee Who understands nothing and nothing is what I see The work is assigned like soilders to a barrack But we look down and merely grin and bear it
Oh Sweet Jesus no, please no, you're at it again  Repeat and- oh, re-repeat? You're not making much sense Every day with impressive display you walk this way and articulate 
Another summer over 8am climbing out of bed First day of college 5 classes ahead Soggy breakfast at the café That’s another upset stomach Professor is 30 minutes late
teach me something I can usegive me something to keep me whole teach me that I'm not brokenfor feeling things that've been felt by thousands before meand around me
"Shhh no, class is just startingBell work? Nah B, I don’t feel like writingMan, move! Get out of my face!!!I’m tired; I don’t feel like moving at this paceHow about you go sit on your ass
  They say you're a sweetheart  But I just can't see   How that can be possible  When you don't help me            He's prodding at my heart  She's stabbing my vein  You can't bother to notice 
School. The place where children are supposed to learn how to live their life.
The snap, the break, the shudder Wide open eyes  sound silence A pindrop cling against the polished tiles A rush of waves of tides, getting vain getting stern I stop I glance around
Listen here, Teacher Dear.I've got some impostant things ask.
Education is the key to success but how can I have success when all the teachers do is disrespect Sometimes I want to tell myself f*ck school but how could I think like that
Mr. & Ms. I am not a robot I am not a prisoner I am not paperwork I am your future I have feelings I have ideas I have talents You have certification Teach me
Today you caught me sleeping in class the fact of the matter I was dreaming I would pass so while you were taking notes and giving F's I was catching up on last nights rest. You question me on if I cared
Do you think I care When you say i'll fail? Do you think I care When your classes i bail? Do you think i care that you want me to be quiet? Do you think i care if the class is a riot?
Well... I stand up for what I believe in, I'll always be the same, no matter the season. Come back after winter break, I'll be the same... sorry. I like football, music, food, tv, and atari.
When I ask you if I can go to the bathroom, you say, "I don't know, can you?" I guess instead of "can" I should say "may," But I don't know, can you stop with the stupid jokes?
Hips, ribs, and collar bones; Never hurt by sticks or stones. Words made you this way. "I can't stand myself!" you say.   You think they're right, You think you're wrong. "Keep it up,"
Dear All, let me go onto explain society’s lust for the imperfect outlook of perfectionism in our educational systems today.    This is a projected scenario for my senior year in 2014
Upon arriving to Brit Lit I see Books on tables that no one will read and faces as blank as notebooks and their minds
Teacher, before we start the dramatics, Before the sighs begin. I would like for you to know about what really happens within.   Yes, sir; the problem IS written clearly on the board.
Who I am is not proven by  what i know     It is what i dont know  
Efficency trumps over education Teachers following a script. "Turn to this page at this time and say these words." Are we even learning anymore? As long as the scores look high
We live                 To the test                 For the test                 By the test My life is not the test
I have done things that do not mattermeasuring my worth with each grain of self entitlement I've poured into teaspoonsfor the sake of making surei don't ask for too much
Teacher, Teacher by the wall Is this the best lesson of them all? All you do is make us read, Is this really what we need?   All of your lessons, Seem like obsessions. And now it’s time,
Where do I begin? Well to start off with; we, students, are not typically morning people So our brains cannot absorb everything Give us a break when it is the morning We came to school didn’t we?
One year in:This place is so big and I am so small... Ugh! I can''t even reach the top shelf in my locker... Sigh...What is that smell?How do these people eat this stuff? I'm pretty sure that beef isn't supposed to be grey...
Fuck you for giving me work that I have no time to finish, because I need extracurriculars to impress the colleges you tell me I won't get into. Fuck you for hating your job
To the professors and teachers of my past, Especially to those who taught the classes I passed,   There are some things you preached to me, Some I have found true and others I disagree.  
I do not care about quadratic equations, or the two sides of a triangle, or your short version of history that doesn’t go over everything. I do not care about how to find C when X equals A times B that equals Z.
Waking to my alarm, I hate hearing that sound/ having to attend school, wishing I could drown.
Teachers who teach for the sake of their students should be celebrated. Too much homework or too little, with good intentions should be venerated. But whether they teach well, or poorly, too slowly, or at a fast pace,
I get what you're saying, but why are you saying it?
Turn this in by tomorrow you say. But, you take eons to give me mine back. Can you believe, one time the students had to teach the class?! No, no not a presentation day. The teacher was just that inept.  
There's no one looking out For the students at the "ghetto school". We're taught to pass the standardized tests, To think enough to make the grade.  Subliminally, you teach us that we're not worth it.
  TEACHERS…. Our eyes tell our stories Begging you to FEEL FOR US, knowing that Everyday we walk into that brick building Our indifference becomes our own personal insane asylum
I sit in classPutting forward my attention,Thinking of the equations,Understanding the lessons,Ignoring the distractions.
To the educators of my school. No student is the same. We all agree knowledge is an useful tool. That's the whole reason I got out of bed and came.   You need to understand homework is not always the key.
If I didn't want to learn I wouldn't be here If you want to socialize leave here I came to fill my head with things I didn't know You were hired to teach us these things Get of your facebook and your phone
Three times a marking period That's how often we can go But if you are married Then shouldn't you already know?  You say it's too much, disruptive, distracting If we could stop it, we wouldn't be asking You've never experienced the anxiousness of
Oh smart teacher, how you glance upon that board, explaining the wornders of art and....life, as you are explaining what the great philosophers before us, feels their take on the subject you,
You really can say anything you want to your teacher Wait, I take that back, don't call her a ugly creature And if you do and want to get on her good side  Don't swear or you'll get on the wrong side of the Jekyll and Hyde
Don't smile until Christmas. Those who can't "do" teach.  It doesn't matter what you do.  The world is going downhill anyway. Kids just don't care.  
What do you see in the classroom? Simply just students, some good and some bad, either listening to your teachings or ignoring them?   What do you see in the hallway?
No Mr./Mrs.______ I do care it's just that I believe you are unaware  that I have 6 other classes  that I take  and at 12am I am still awake doing homework  and pushing myself
It's 5 AM, time to wake up and put on make up, so you don't look so tired, those freshmen can smell exhaustion.   TA-ing Comp 101 all day and your own classes all night,
Dear Authorities, You know, it would be alot easier- if you actually payed a bit more attention to me. I don't blame you though. You've got a lot of students: You've seen the jocks, and the nerds,
You teach us how to think, you teach us what to know, you teach us to be a friend, but to also be a foe.   You teach us how to walk, you teach us what to wear, you teach us to be ourselves,
So hey  I get it you're a teacher you only have so much time and money and patience and like I understand that teaching wasn't what you expected you thought it'd be like in high school
Work here and work there Work work work Don’t sleep Don’t stop Don’t think But stop complaining You are in control I do as you say I think as you think
There are times where you feel like an outcast, and that, I didn't know you were in this class statement you get Not many African American students at school take college classes in high school, but there's little old me in big AP
When the voice of a distant cry Wriggles under the paper prison you began I start to grow into another skin   Yet, as soon as you turn your head towards me The world slowly grows dead
Tears Drama Yelling Fights Everything that makes high school, high school I couldn’t imagine seeing anything different
Passionless teaching sorrounding us, Obsorbs the excitment of most, Drousy and bored causes a fuss, or sketching our trip to the coast.    Lunch is dull and tasteless, Although we get a break,
"The dorms are huge" they said, and the foolish me believe them.   I'm now at UCSD and apparently they just couldn't see, that they only saw what they sought to see. There's nothing that can be done,
She's back you know- making the wallflower's feel... pretty but, they'll soon realize her lies and the pain she puts them through,  only makes her stronger.
Remember when how you stood in front of the class Lectured endlessly on the psychology of the mind Compressed pain into tiny, sterile words Depression and self-harm and anorexia,
  Epigraph: Parents are in fact teachers, and though we feel that we can tell them anything, sometimes it is to them who we can't say our "sh*t." So, this is something I would like to tell one of my teachers, my father.  
The day I got my classes, I felt so glad to have them. I thought this year would bring forth some more excitement and more knowledge. After only one day in each class, I only really liked math.
    A thousand thoughts lie unspoken A medley of words in my head I could never bring myself to say things out loud So I kept my silence instead   Too many unexpressed ideas
Sitting in a class day to day No difference, same thing ... papers all seem the same Waiting for a chance to shine...but the professor doesn't know me Hidden behind numbers...some one please recognize me
I was never fond of family reunionsand recently a not-so-close relativecame up to me and said“So many twentysomethings are dropping out.Where do you want to be in 10 years? You better make us proud.”
You say fill out the bubble sheet it has all that you need. You say now write this page it'll help you succeed. the due date rolls around, what lies you told; the success I was grasping,
Professor, oh professor You're overqualified This job you have is just full of your self indulgent pride Are you really teaching, Or growing your ego? How can you sit around and smile as you watch my grades go? Professor, oh professor Im underclas
STOP! Interrogating me, treat this classroom as if it was the business world!  You people claim we are young adults, preparing us the college but professor won’t baby us,
Always focused on things that dont matter We dont care what your husband said your boring voice Puts us to sleep we wanted to learn things that we could percieve Things that would
Everyday I wake up at six. Groggy, tired, deprived of my thrilling time in my dreams. 
It has always been me, everyday of my life Living in fear, having to walk around in strife I'm very quiet, probably the quietest person you will ever meet  But something about me gives a scent of rejectment
seconds tick, tick, tick, tick rows and rows of motionless eyes excitement ceases to show itself it is only our future in disguise   minutes pass by without interaction
    you all cry you all hurt and you all are the reasons why   Tell me, you there. What is it you are doing? Trying so hard to a goal you cannot reach.
I wake up everyday, tired as can be. Slugging through the hallways, grim faces are what I see. My locker will not open, I swear this time it's the lock,  trying to get my books, as all the students flock.
Dear Teacher's Of My Past Sometimes y'all look at student's like germs. Other times we're their the best student's y'all have had for the year. We look for your help, but get a pat on the back and keep walking.
I’m feeling overwhelmedHere I am drowningFighting for airGaspingBeneath a sea of paper and booksWhere is the life that I used to know?The life of happinessThe life of pure enjoyment
Stuff you can’t say to your teacher   To my former school I have some words for you Ten years of teaching me
Just like all the others As I tread through the halls They take our colors and filter them through Black and white and gray  
The Real Meaning of a BurnPrimary tabsView(active tab)EditSat, 09/28/2013 - 14:2
Slow. Stop. Sympathize. Claims of compassion corrode. Heaps of homework hail.
four minutes between classes my feet move a mile a minute and so does my mind   but four miles isn't far enough from my last class my backpack weighs me down as does the burden of new knowledge
Teacher, Teacher! Can’t you see? These big bright lights are bugging me!   I woke up early, Did not eat, So my hair’d be curled, nice, and neat.   I took the bus, So full of gum,
Who do you think you are...Is it because you have a degree....Does that make you any better than me?
The soldiers are hungry. They live on meager meals, Meager meals indeed. While we sit here, cracking jokes, and breaking yolks in home economics.
Education, striving for excellence and determination, because I am learning of X's and Y's and wars, and I quite frankly can't take it anymore, four passes dedicated to the bathroom per term,
Damn why are you teaching so fast, Stop!!! Take time to actually teach, not speed through material, so that your class can understand and meditate on your words instead of stressing  each year trying
My grades are falling rapidly Because of the level at which you are teaching me   You say my rhymes are elementary That they may be At least I'm not derogatory You need to expand your vocabulary
Do you know that old saying? Something borrowed Something old Something new Something borrowed Something blue? Well, scratch the old and the blue and try something borrowed
You have seen me everyday now, 2 days in a row I'm excited for the future days Are you teacher that will listen, teach and care? Will you hear the things I can't say?  
Yo, I mean, Hey Professor, I was just looking the other day at my laptop at the homework— What? Oh, yeah, I know I should come to your office hours, but—
Change What in school? Change Everything. Make it a happy place. Make it an exciting place. Give us teachers who want to be there with us. Provide us with decent food. Allow us art, music, and theatre.
Teachers ask you how you are "im good, and you" we reply. Thats because  the truth hurts but if I could say the truth, "im good"  would not be my answer. "My fathers a runaway fugitive, my mother has cancer.
The desk is too small. The chair is too hard. The light is too bright. The walls are closing in, making me claustrophobic.  Your voice is too loud, deprived of emotion, and neverending. 
Ring! Ring! Goes the alarm of remembrance There is school to be attended Scrambling to piece together nice outfits To avoid judgement and resentment Striding to the bus stop  To be greeted by the allotment
You say that the Civil War ended slavery, Then decry corporations as practicing such, Driving their "employees" into the ground, Hypocritical Much? But as I recall, Over all, Corporations don't chain
Miss, I gotta say that I do learn from your class But I'm sorry it's your style that I'm going to harass School uniform days are over, Please put some new clothes in your bedroom drawer. 
Hush, silence. All eyes up front! Yeah, but what you didn't know was that I had to fight for my life the other night.
Hello, it's me. Yeah, the girl in the front row of your class. I take vigorous notes, nod and show appreciation for your enthusiasm or, for a the lack there of, I sympathize.
Hi, it's me again. Yeah your favorite student. The one you constantly accused of cheating, texting during lectures, and lying about going to a funeral. The only person who couldn't eat their breakfast fifteen minutes before class started.
Mr. C Why can't you be nice? Why can't you be kind? Don't you know that you're hurting others? Are you blind? Well I guess you are, 'Cuz you always stare at the ground.
Teachers, you are not our friends, not all the time, please do not fool yourselves.   Teachers, I'm asking you: do you remember that the girl in the back corner, who
put Emotion when you Speak! do not be Plain or Boring! put Passion in your Tone of Voice! not Sorrow! Feel the Love do not Burn the Feeling!
Teachers, here's a lesson you don't seem to appreciate: Judging students yourself  Causes classroom hate. Stop pretending you don't see it When your favorite student bullies. Stop turning the other way
Subscribe to Sh*t you can't say to your teacher