Sitting in class,
Staring at the board,
The teacher acting likes she's some sort of lord,
Ruling all of us poor teenagers,
Waiting waiting waiting,
I'd rather see two dogs mating,
This place gets so old,
Like old green mold,
I'd rather sleep my day away,
In my nice comfy bed,
With my stuffed bear Ted,
I'd rather shovel snow,
Because I just don't want to go,
See what's the point dude,
Nobody's ever in the mood,
To go to school,
How is it a tool? ,
Someday I'm gunna be wrinkly and old,
And hopefully not smell like mold,
School won't matter when I'm old as mold,
So that's my poem about school,
And how it's so uncool.