Most grown-ups have a habit of asking,
"What did you learn at school today?" They wonder what children do at school, you see And this is what I said today: "The frumplewandered of the Mughals Has fallen down the stairs The gardener of his palace Had absolutely no hair The crust of the Earth is made of poggles, huirk, and ilarts Cows, despite being holy, Have the most dangerous farts The world is dying, but it isn't important For in literature we need to memorize Who did what, and how they wrote it, Those are really the words of our demise In Science, we absolutely need to know How a guy had germs between his teeth And discovered tiny stuff called bogglewash Must've been quite a feat! If we get his spelling wrong (It's a Dutch name) Then there goes half a mark The intentions don't matter, no Our thoughts are in the dark.. Physics could actually be fun If we didn't learn precisely when This weird guy saw an apple fall And discovered gimmicksal then Chemistry could interest students If only we didn't need to remember All the elements of the pigswallish table And give an exam on it in December A lot of people would be smarter If school hadn't dulled their minds They still get extra marks for handwriting though, So I guess that's really nice... "
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Oh, how I wish
I was a fish Living in the sea, With nothing to care About polluted air Nope, just krill for me! Oh, how I wonder If I lived under The crust as a little bug does, Over "politics" and that funny Green stuff they call "money" Would I make such a big fuss? Oh, if I was a flower Would I spend hour after hour Being unkind and greedy? Would I destroy nature And ruin everyone's future Just because I thought I was needy? I think if I was a tree I'd never need to worry About hearing news of war, That wouldn't even exist, For though I'd have barky fists Trees have nothing to fight each other for! The world would be better, in fact If all humans were just cats Lazing about in the sun, The grass would be greener, The air would be cleaner, And we'd worry about nothing but fun!
When light fades away forever,
And darkness eats the land, When you want to build mighty castles, But all you have is sand When you feel everything at once, Every joy and every sorrow, If you're so fed up of today, How will you ever face tomorrow? When your body is too big for your bones, And your bones are too big for your heart, When you want it all to just stop, But you don't know how to start When you run away in secret, You become a volunteer, So don't scream when we take you, For the world is quiet here.
As soon as Coral walked into the investigation chamber, she knew why the police suspected Devereaux of corruption. He was smiling and seemed completely unperturbed at his situation. He had brown hair slicked back with outrageous quantities of oil and a sharp jawline. He had black eyes and a genial face as if he was genuinely pleased to be in a containment cell. He was wearing a well-cut blue suit. Although he looked like the very personification of trust, Coral didn’t trust him. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he carried himself in a way that made it clear to her that he meant her no good. He looked like the kind of person who could charm you and hold a dagger to your back at the same time. Noticing her, he said,” Ah, Coral! The young detective. Forgive me for not standing to greet you, these rather unfortunate cuffs prevent me from doing so. Let us get to the part where you accuse me of corruption and I deny based on certain evidence. Now, I hope we can call this case concluded, I have an important lunch appointment at Whetherby’s.”
It was the kind of night I knew I would remember for the rest of my life. I got selected for the school play! That might not seem like a big thing, but I have this major stutter in my voice and the fact that I got selected for anything regarding speaking is in itself quite surprising. However, that’s not the weird thing that happened. Not even close.
It was night-time. For some reason, our Drama instructor (Ms June) insisted that we practice in the dead of the night. I was skipping down the road when I bumped into my bestie, Prisha. She had also been selected for the school play. She looked a little upset. “I can’t believe this...”, she said,” I’m a frog.” Putting an arm around her to comfort my friend, I argued,” Maybe, since the play’s a comedy, the frog’s the most important part. You might have the starring role!” She sighed. “Maybe.” We walked into the dimly lit auditorium and retired to the dressing-room for our costumes. I came out wearing a shabby black dress with a white apron (I was a waitress), and Prisha came out wearing a silly hand-me-down frog costume. It had holes for the eyes, a large lolling tongue, and green limbs that were really out of proportion. ‘At least Prisha’s feeling better...’, I thought. Indeed, she was smiling. We took our places on the stage and started the play rehearsal. When my turn came, I stuttered in all the right places, and after my role, my fellow actors and actresses were shaking with suppressed laughter! After my dialogue was Prisha’s. The spotlight was trained on her. Everybody was looking anxiously at her. She had to put on her best frog imitation. Behind her stood a man with a stretcher, just in case. You see, Prisha often had paralysing attacks when she was nervous or scared. To everyone’s surprise, and my own, she opened her mouth and gave out a large “Croak!” We couldn’t take it anymore. There was a moment of silence, and then we all burst out laughing! Some people were even banging their fists on the stage in fits of laughter! I was laughing too, till I noticed something was wrong. Prisha, instead of laughing herself, was looking around in confusion and still emitting low rumbles and croaks. “You can stop now Prisha.”, I said. She didn’t even look at me. Out of concern for my friend, I went over to her and tried to remove the frog costume. It was stuck. I looked through the eye-holes. Prisha had beautiful hazel-brown eyes. I was met with black slit eyes. Amphibian eyes. I screamed. I tried yet again to wrestle that awful costume off her. Then it clicked. She was the costume. At its base, her skin was grafted smoothly to that childish imitation of a frog. My best friend was a frog! I thought quickly. The costume was made of paper. I needed water. I grabbed a bucket from the fire stand and poured it on top of her. I pulled off the soggy costume. Thankfully, I wasn’t too late. Prisha was fine, though she looked a little green around the gills (metaphorically, not literally!). “What happened?!”, said Ms June, fuming. “I feel ill.”, Prisha said. Uh oh. We all stepped a bit back. Prisha hurled all over Ms. June. * The next night, I didn’t see Prisha anywhere. “Where’s Prisha?”, I asked Ms. June. “Haven’t you heard? She’s been taken to an asylum. She’s been having hallucinations and muttering under her breath. Something about frogs and bogs. Anyway, you’re to take the role of the frog now, as punishment for spoiling the costume. You’re to wear a soggy wet one now. Go and get ready. Chop chop!” When autumn leaves begin to fly,
A harvest moon hangs full and high, Cold winds chill you to the bone? Do what spooks you’ve always known! Take a large cauldron (or a cup!) Grab some insect blood and stir it up A pinch of fairy dust, not too much A piece of old moss, nice and lush The fillet of a fenny snake In the cauldron, boil and bake Slime of a slug, blind rats stew Who knows the wonders it’ll do? Pour it in a silver cup Serve it hot, drink right up! Garnish with a worm or two Only witches love the witches’ brew!
In a faraway mountain, in a fire-lit cave,
The Alicanto lurks, past the oceans and waves Never dare, never dare to go near, If you hold your life dear, For oh, what she’ll do, if she gets you! Yes, she is beautiful, with a small, pretty head And her eyes of fire and her wings of red, Never, never venture on, If you hear her fatal song For oh, what she’ll do, if she gets you! She disappears in a flame and reappears again, And eats the travelers, who dare enter her domain, Never ever go alone, Or you’ll be stripped to the bone, For oh, what she’ll do when she gets you! |
AuthorI am 13 years Old and I Iove writing poems. |