Walking to school at dawn of Winter day,
The bright pale sun gives frozen hands no aid,
Hands in my pockets, keeping cold at bay,
The green grass lays covered by the white snow’s shade.
Rubbing my eye, the sky lets out a sigh,
For one can’t see if one’s completely blind.
That’s who I was, a dense and shallow guy.
Not learning true knowledge; just the tasks assigned.
Walking back home while underneath Spring rains,
A burst, a pang; in pain’s my heart and brain.
When suddenly words appear in a quatrain,
Not one, not two, but five! With its refrain:
What use is this, the constant homework’s grind?
The endless waiting ’till the end, July?
Using this time, to keep students confined?
The leaves fall down swiftly from an Autumn sky.
Yet, nothing can be done, to great dismay,
It fell upon me; a fiery grenade:
Go with the flow, and you won’t move astray,
A final conclusion, and my mind was made.
And now, only this poem still remains…