Pulling the clothes out of my closet,
And thinking to myself, ‘what would make me look honest?’
Trying on strings of outfit after outfit,
Finally deciding on a cute skirt that fit.
Finding out the weather; it’s going to be cold,
So picking out thigh-highs that make me look old.
Hiking them up constantly so they don’t fall down,
I attach a guarder so they wouldn’t go to the ground.
Adding a nice shirt and shoes with a heel,
Today, like a princess is how I feel.
Receiving an early ride to my school,
This is the day that I feel so cool.
Walking past everyone in the halls,
I feel so many eyes, sending silent calls.
Making faces at my choice of clothes,
Students and teachers are shocked, but my excitement grows.
Hurrying to first period, just in time I arrive,
Only to leave again to give speeches about the blood drive.
Spending as little time as I can,
I inform about the blood drive’s who, what, where, and when.
Racing back to class just in time,
The day picks up speed, without reason or rhyme.
Getting pulled out of 3rd period, I start to burn.
My English teacher says my outfit is out of turn.
Calling her about my attire,
Other said I looker as if I was for hire.
Sending me to the office in order to call home,
I am totally fine, but start to cry on the phone.
Coming in and seeing me, the vice principal seems confused,
As I explain my story, she turns bemused.
Siding with the teachers, she states my outfit is “too sexy for school.”
But I don’t recall reading that being a rule.
Waiting in the office, for my father bring my jeans,
I sit anxiously and forever, it seems.
Changing in the bathroom anger builds inside of me,
Why is it that I am the only one punished for my atrocity?
Retreating back to class I scan each hall,
And what I find fills me with awe.
Shuffling in falling pants,
Guys walk around in an awkward dance.
Showing boxers like there is no tomorrow,
They don’t even consider a belt, they may have to borrow.
Hanging out, and as much to blame as the guys,
The girls are wearing short skirts that flash upper thighs.
Peeking out are bra straps galore,
Almost all of them look like the ‘girl next door.’
Seeing these sights has become the ‘norm,’
No longer just seen in the privacies of the college dorm.
Having guarder straps showing is the same as bra,
In my opinion anyway, but not set in law.
Finishing the day, I feel proud and happy,
Solely because so many people noticed me.
A contest entry
- Prewrites Galore and Nothing More by HerbalGoat.
300 points, ended February 22, 2007, 70 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Don't you agree?
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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i liked the idea of it, because it is so true, but the rhyming seemed forced. trust, me your not the only one whos getting sick of me saying the phrase, the wicked forced rhyming, lol.
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I like it and i remember that day lol you are soo right about how other people in our school dress.
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perfect, strong, and true! especially those slutty 7th graders. but you went through a days happening with flow and for that, its even better and easier to read. great job toys
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Check your typing. You have "to myself" repeated in your second line. There are just a few other typos here and there, but nothing major. I noticed that you have a rhyming scheme, and when writing rhyming scheme, flow is usually key. In some points, your flow is superb, but then others, it's a little scratchy. A quick look may do the trick, but this is only my suggestion. Thanks for entering, and good luck.
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Thank you for pointing out the error. Since I wrote it, I have the flow in my head- could you please point out where the rhyming is 'scratchy' [when you have the time, of course!]
Thanks again
~WU
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love it! and yeah that sounds like our school. i remember the day you wore that. i was definitly one of the people staring you looked great and that is an outfit i would dream of wearing. ive been yelled at for clothes before. i have a large bust. if so much as a line of my cleavage shows a teacher is up my butt but the flat girls, they can walk around in white tanktops and black padded bras with the small amount of boobs they have falling out. but hey thats life. if uve got the guts to show it and the body to make it look flattering someones going to get upset. u just gotta get back up and do it again.
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AWWW YEAH!
This is exactly what happens all over the world. Goddamn I hate those fucking idiots who show their underwear intentionally or show stupid amounts of cleveage at school, then wonder why everyone calls them sluts! I digress...It's been a while since I commented on your work, for that I'm very sorry. I've missed out and I miss talking to you (my laptop is broken so I'm using other peoples PC's) This poem really hits home, anyone with sense can relate and I must say you drove this one to the ground. Fantastic work and keep up the show. Give me an email or something and let me know how you're doing.
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