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|F-. (standard:poetry, 105 words)|
|Author: Jack Henry||Added: Sep 24 2002||Views/Reads: 2001/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Ironically, this poem got me an A in my Creative Writing class back in my Senior year.|
F- Oh teacher, this poem is but one Out of ten total that are not done. I have spent the last few days in your class Sleeping, dreaming, and sitting on my ass, Doing nothing productive with my time, Because I could not think of more than fourteen good rhymes. Perhaps I should feel pity, For writing something less than witty. But all I feel is shame, For coming to my senses so late in the game. So I have given myself the liberty Of grading my own misery, Thinking to myself while scratching my stubble, You shouldn't have to go through all that trouble. Tweet
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