I enjoy writing things as though they were poems

Hello, Dear.

Get ready for a big wall of text.
Cause I have shit to do,

That I’m not going to.

In study hall,

We pretty much sit.

And listen.

And watch the large man

With the large rear

As he watches us.

There are two rules: Be quiet, be productive.

What if I were to be

Productive

But loud

And quiet

But sleep.

I slept last night.

A lot.

For the first time

In ages.

More like weeks.

This is A material.

Write shit like this,

Teachers eat it up.

Poetry is in the eye of the beholder.

If I phrase my thoughts

In coherent sentences,

With a new line for each one,

We can watch as it becomes

Real

I don’t have a connection with chemistry.

I don’t have chemistry with science

Math is slowly killing me

English—my sole alliance

Yes, I felt like there was a need for rhyming

Somewhere in this abyss of text.

It’s actually quite amusing

I bet you didn’t expect

A haiku to come

Out of thin air like magic

You counted the syllables

And found that I tricked you.
The last poem was a haiku,

Not the one before.

With the old Microsoft word

Making a column

Is so much harder

But I did it.

And now, there are two.

Oh, how I procrastinate.

It’s funny how much homework I have.

I will be up so fucking late.

I didn’t mean to rhyme, but did.

I should probably stop

Writing meaningless poems,

That actually aren’t poems

Just thoughts.

That I want you to read.

Here is me trying to write a real poem:

“It’s 2:32,
And it’s nothing new,

That I have shit to do.

But I’m not going to

Cause I feel so blue

And I would rather draw on my shoe.

How about you?”

Ah, I should’ve been a lyrist.

When you find this

I hope you laugh

Just a little

Because then

It would make all the procrastination

Slightly

More

Worth it.

-Radia Lahlou