Funny Poems For Kids About Homework

Funny Poems For Kids About Homework-1
And somewhere along those empty desks,and tattered mess, I find myself, haunting the hallways of the hollows in my mind..more.Truly, boredom is the true inspiration, for without it, we would not be motivated to find one.And when I help the kids with homework, We both learn math together.

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I am sorry mum, That I am ****, For what I wear, For the state of my hair.

I am sorry mum, That my opinions are wrong, That I spoke without asking, For the things that I know.

I know the words to one rap song, And still prefer guys tall.

My puns are all intended, There is a spoon I hate, I’ll never mix my whites and brights, I can’t stay up too late. the beep beep makes me hardly do sit upwith some skins about to crackopen the laptop. The world was born in blood And has not ceased to suckle its wounds Endless blood thirst, Endless war But not endless skin to bleed three's upi'm throwing my life awaythrowing my three's upthree **** summers in a rowthree nights in the slammerthree days getting drunkbeen thinking about all my exes a lotbeen thinking about you a lotand how we'd spend the night doing homework and then sleeping togetherused to get me chicken nuggets afterwards and now you know what goes on in my brain***, programming and chicken nuggetsfrom mcdonalds To the girl sitting next to me in summer school I want to tell you that you look beautiful, Beautiful like in the way the summer sun bends around the north pole because it refuses to set its constant and lasting Just like the way my heart jumped the moment i saw you for the first time and it has refused to come down Everytime since, when i see you, although i have never been much of a dreamer, i daydream about all the things i want to do to you like... or blush So that my daydreams will have the perfect backdrop of love to memorize your every freckle, and then i want to drink the smile i put on your face beause i know it is the only thing that can quench my thirst I want to tell you that I want to learn ballet, just so i can catch you everytime you jump and make sure that ill never let you fall... I want to learn to draw Because I want to draw my way into your life, van gogh my way into your past present and future, i want to spend my whole life with you, and on your dying day i want to roundhouse kick death for even thinking of taking you away from me But most of all i want to make you...

AP World History might put me to sleep in a coffin with all this stress.

I'm much too anxious to be my old, creative self for English class.I am sorry mum, That I have expressed things, That I have dropped things, Caused a mess in your home.I am sorry mum That I wanted to study, That I liked being outside, And that I looked untidy.Excuses,excuses,excuses, I am tired of you lazies, For once why don't you handover your homework on time, Thus, make my life devine.Don't tell me your little sibling tore your homework, Or you were absent, such bad luck, Your grandmother spilled tea on your maths sheet, Here, to give you is not fit.Alight, The damp stitches in the soil Cemetery symmetrical to hospital Those shooting stars circling Like a vulture Speeds towards dead carcasses Still, the murdering star will not cease To break bones That have already broken To take lives That have already been taken To burn What is already charred Today It smells like not your favorite food for dinner It smells like having to do your math homework It smells like burning books It smells like gnawing on your own skin for feast It sounds like tired, howling machines Spurring and sputtering, never-ending their onwards trek Swallowing distances and with it, nameless faces Nameless places For nothing has gone without the occulent scratching hands taking hold Today the earthquakes of death Don't make the land shake anymore For it has learned to cope With the desolate cemeteries filled with mute bones Today burns like gasoline Looks like intestines decorating destroyed doors Today it rains curdled crimson Tell me shooting star If the child liked jam on his toast Did he snore? I opened my mouth and instead of all the soliloquies that dance through my head whenever you saunter into a room all that came out was hi...... I am sorry mum, For everything, For what im not, What I havent done.I am sorry mum, For staying away, For being with friends, For being far away.I'm exhausted because I stay up too late,due to the fact that I'm literally drowning in a sea of papers and books.I just want to sleep,but I can't, I'm too busy worrying about my next exam.The moths followed the little square Like he was a flame The little square wrote a book about his despair And the moths made a proclaim The little square didn't like us So he told the moths to find us, "the mess"He told them to do it without fuss'Cause without us his garden would be flawless The moths came out to his garden They found me and my kind And pulled us out with a gun Treating us like we aren't apart of mankind We were put on trial by them And thrown into fire We were shoved into a room by 'em And gassed because it was "prior"Occasionally the moths were bored So they played hangman with us This was a game that they adored All we could do was stare at the hanging carcass They were our friends and family They were the only medals we had left We were too broken to be angry So we ignored the theft When the moths got rid of us They went for the most damaged weeds That often made us anxious Because of it some did misdeeds Some couldn't deal with the pain and fear So those weeds jumped to the birds On the floor they left a smear The smears thought jumping would send them homewards Though we saw death so many times a day We were still able to eat and treat people with hate It was because from our god we have gone astray Maybe because we were all under weight In our stomachs prowled lions Our hunger was so severe If we found stray scraps we would go for the ****If you went for the food you were a volunteer One time we ran out of food So we complained even more The moths got tired of our complaining mood So we ran to a new camp door We were often moved We went from camp to camp Of course we all disapproved On the house that was based by our stamp On each of our wrist Was and inky black stamp It was on the moths checklist It was our name in each concentration camp When we were saved from hell We were all broken weeds We couldn't even sleep well But the ones that saved us answered our needs The ones that saved us helped end the war And some were normal citizens Everyday we are grateful for their loving core Even if we had great differences Though the Holocaust made us different And the memories haunt us It was kind of a movement Because now people won't walk into war without a fuss •helping the kids with homework•no one told you,was part of the job description paycheck earner a-ok,gruff but tender lover,knowing her special places,building a tree swing, a tree house safe and satisfactory,one the neighbors envytaking them to the hospital forbroken arms and chemotherapy,part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,going to school to give that principal a lookthat will make him think twice before suspending one of his for defending himself you remember your daddy doing the same for you,forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came laterthe tucking in, the pretense ouch when your end of dayscratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,carrying tissues in a toolbox,never heard of, nevertheless done,tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,definitely a learning ability, a likeability doing homework, nuh uh,no way jose, don’t dare let themknow how you never got a gold star,always sat in the back row, outta sight,all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much ain’t exactly his strong suitsure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,know where the on/off computer button hides,the rest is up to them;got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,how to address humans with respect,i’ll promise them anything but not doing any homework,unless it the kind that that makes “ Homework is inspiration,written in secretly,between the lines of due dates,and boredom.Listening to music,whilst studying a sad song,is my favorite pastime.

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