Angelic babies,
Calm corridors,
It's always harmonized until 8:00.
Then the clock strucks,
To eight A.M.,
and suddenly a booming clops through the doorway.
Youngsters walk through the door like a parade.
I feel like the soft sounding is betrayed.
They bash the toys,
They make loud noise,
Teachers are screaming at them for dimness to fill the room.
The babies start crying,
The little kids start wining,
and then a body starts exclaiming louder than the children,
"Big Kids, time for school!!!".
The words that we're said,
are music to my ears,
And then the loudness,
Soon disapears.
The babies are angelic,
The corridors are calm,
and now, what's gone is the dred.
Author notes
Well Don't really think this is a poem, well please tell me what you think.(To let you know, I'm not a very good poet)
A contest entry
- Ages 13 and Under ONLY ~ At this moment.... by Amunet Wolfbane.
300 points, ended November 11, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Plaes tell me what you think.
Comments
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Oh. This is a very nice little poem that you have penned here. I thought it was cute. I have never really thought that much about daycare's so it was fun to read a poem about something a little different. I could just feel the aggitation of all the noise and not feel that you have any control. I laughed when you practically cheered that it was time for school. lol You did a good job of expressing yourself here.
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It had great flow to it, Keep up the good work and may your pen forever flow.
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This is very well done and I really like the way you've displayed the imagery here, taking the details and capturing them. An impressive piece. Best of luck to you.
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