did you want a prize for such perfection?
always arriving to class first
again again and oh my gawd AGAIN
such time could be spent buying a flattering blouse
no wait! you'd rather wear that fugly old t-shirt
A woman’s hand is a model of beauty and grace, to be kept soft and
jeweled. This your hands will never be for they possess nails bitten to
ragged edges at fingertips.
You are what you eat, or so goes the popular adage. Your make-up is one of
junk, chips and pizza.
A disregard for appearance is evident in a disregard for the clothes you wear
and wear and wear.
and where is your regard?
wrapped around your wrist?
ticking a vain rhythm
stare at that effing clock one more effing time
and i'll tear that effing Fossil from your effing wrist and return it to the effing store
your wastefulness makes me twitch
you write scribble scratch re-write JUST WRITE
by the time you make that teeny tiny decision, the earth will have no trees
all chopped down for delicious gum
and the gum is gone too
my deprived children shall never experience shade or a piece gum
because Rachel Weiss chewed it ALL gone
It is important for one to have respect. Respect for people and respect for things.
You have neither, sketching in class.
Here you make the authority voice sound far away and destroy materials and waste ink (or lead).
A mind like yours cannot be contained and kept focused long enough to hear a person out.
Children are led down a hall with their hands behind their backs. As a child I assume you could not complete this task. Causing distractions and disruptions, you move and fidget the entire length of class. And what good does it do you?