posted 04-30-2002 08:42 PM            

“High School Blues”

By David Reynolds

Our lives are controlled by a ringing bell,
And we drag our way through 4 years of h*ll.
Up and down stairs from 8 until 4,
Trying to leave, driving door to door,
With the person who always wants ahead of you,
And like an idiot, you always let him through.

At 8 everyday, just like clockwork,
We head to homeroom to finish homework.
Then comes 1st block, the longest of all,
And the question of why are desks so small?
You lug around your bag full of 5-pound books,
While giving all the teachers mean, evil looks.

They are the ones who give you such pain,
But when they have to take a few papers home, they always complain.
The bell rings again, signaling the end of that class,
And it’s on to 2nd block, if that moron would move his a**.
They always block the way, making you constantly late,
And the teacher never wants to hear your “useless debate”.

So onward you trudge, books on your back,
Wishing you could’ve had an hour more in the sack.
You doze off during the lecture, not really caring,
Until the test day rolls around, then you’re left swearing.
There’s never enough time to complete all your tasks,
“Why must we do this?”, one student asks.

No reason is given, the teacher is quiet,
Then from the hall, you hear a small riot.
A fight has started, the 5th one this week.
You stick your head out the door to get a quick peak.
The cops are there, two people in cuffs,
As if the bloody faces weren’t enough.

Third block begins without a hitch,
‘Til the teacher gives a pop quiz, that stupid witch.
You try it anyway, knowing you won’t pass.
Why must school be such a pain in the a**?
Lunchtime now, you run down the hall,
Then someone trips you and to the floor you fall.

When you finally get there, the lines are all full,
It’s too much to having 3,000 students in one school.
You grab a salad, your least favorite food,
And head to the table, in a really sour mood.
You talk with your friend for about half an hour,
Then it’s back to the classroom, because “knowledge is power”.

Fourth block, oh, it’s finally here,
“One class to go”, you mentally cheer.
An hour and a half more, oh, what joy,
Except for the moron behind you, who loves to annoy.
Every minute that passes by brings you closer to freedom,
Work pages are assigned, but you don’t wanna read ‘em.

Finally at 3:30, you’re released from your cell,
Running fast to hurry from this place known as h*ll.
It’s a true-to-life prison, complete with it all.
They even barred the windows in the bathroom stall.
You run to your bus, or if you’re lucky, your car.
You try to get out, but you don’t get too far.

Hundreds of students drive through one tiny gate,
Road rage ensues, heightening the hate.
Horns are honked and lights are flashed,
And once in a while, a bumper is smashed.
Finally outside and away from the mix,
You pop the clutch and unleash your V6.

Racing down the road as fast as you can,
Cop radar on, hidden in the dash of your van.
You finally get home and drop all your stuff,
Boy was that day ever rough.
You finish your homework before 12AM,
Then get some sleep before doing it all again.

It’s an endless cycle 180 days of the year,
Then comes summer, nothing to do here.
You wish you were out, never to return,
But you go back in August, bright red with sunburn.
When you finally graduate, you start to packing,
And head off to college, funds still lacking.

More school lies ahead, but high school is gone,
A memory now, and one not so fond.
You move on with your life, happy to be out,
While all the others sit around and pout,
For we are still here for a few years more,
And when I get out, my engine will roar.

Now you have read of what I go through,
And you know what I do.
It’s what I’ve done for 3 years, and will for one more,
Until I get my diploma and walk out that door.
I’ve wasted my time like a d*mn*d old fool,
But now you know of the horrors of high school.

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"Move the stands back, take the plates off, and let us RACE!" ~Dale Earnhardt