School is beautiful, school is great
School provides us with an outlet , taps into our talent
School is where we learn new things and make friends
Friendships which some of us will carry well into adulthood

Were it not for school, where would we learn
And how would we know what we are good at
What we are not good at, what we  like, dislike
How would we learn tolerance and understanding

Tolerance and understanding  make us better human beings
Were it not for school, would we learn to read and write
Had they not gone to school, Dickens, Tolkien, and Twain
Would never have written the classics they did

School also teaches us the importance of numbers
Successful and rich people know their numbers
Money likes those who know their numbers
That's why the majority of people remain poor

School teaches us so many different things, so many
Some things help us in life, after school, others never to use
But knowledge is power, and its good to know
That we can stride out into the world with full confidence

Sugar. Honey. Iced. Tea.
They mutter it when they’re too scared to come at me. It’s cute, really.. how they smile and throw shade, and then act shocked when I don’t sit there and fade.

S is for Sugar, like their condescending tone, when they joke in class and won’t leave me alone. “You’re so weird,” they say, with that laugh on loop. So I smile back, and plot how to flip the whole group.

H is for Honey, that sickly sweet lie, “We’re just teasing!” Nah, you’re asking to cry. Keep poking, keep playing, keep running that mouth, but don’t act surprised when I knock you clean out.

I is for Iced, like my knuckles post swing, and the silence that follows when I end the whole thing. I don’t fight often, but I do fight loud. Enough to make the fake girls rethink their crowd.

T is for Tea, verbal or literal, either I sip it, or I serve it criminal. Sometimes it’s words, sharp as a blade, sometimes its fists when the message won’t fade.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea, such a posh way to swear.

Perfect for school halls, for pretending to care.
Because if I said what I really meant?
I’d be sent home, labelled violent or bent.

But don’t be fooled by the silence I keep.
Every insult’s recorded, every smirk runs deep.
I give as good as I get, and sometimes worse.
In this uniform jungle, I don’t just curse.

So yeah, bully me. Try it, see what you earn.
You’ll get banter back, or maybe a burn.
And if all else fails and words fall flat?
Well.. Sugar. Honey. Iced. That.

Arm wrapped around my neck
laughter encased my ears
skipping as you do,
out the school gate.
Her bright smile
did glow like the sun
her warm eyes
were stars dancing gracefully.

As children we did play together
giggling all days long
now together still
we enjoy our short time
the minutes we sneak between revision
are my favourite of all.

7.6.25 (10:42 am / 10:42)
ariane.
all those lunches throughout the school year,
do you remember?
not just the two of us,
but somehow that still.

like the day of the dance-
i let you borrow my floral vintage dress,
and we all tried it on at our lunch table.

when i think of you,
i think of the way you twirled
and how the skirts flew in the air
and oh
how you laughed

at the dance we all posed for photos
looking at the camera
our mouths lip-gossed and pouting.
but my eyes always strayed back to you
and in one polaroid,
i’m smiling.

this is what i’ve been trying to tell you.

** m

They call it a temple of knowledge and thought,
A place where young minds are carefully taught.
But what is the lesson? What is the rule?
That learning doesn’t happen at my school.

The classroom’s a stage, the script is rehearsed,
Yet passion is absent—just boredom dispersed.
The teacher recites, but they barely engage,
Tenure protects them, and they never must change.

I ask, Why do I need to memorize this?
They smirk and respond, Because it’s on the quiz.
Centuries of knowledge forced into my head,
But not a **** skill for the life I will tread.

They pile on homework, assignments unceasing,
Stealing my time; my patience decreasing.
It teaches me nothing but how to endure,
A childhood lost—stolen, for sure

They claim to be guides, but barely take part,
More focused on grading than igniting a spark.
If I miss one step, if I fail one test,
I’m labeled as lazy, as less than the best.

Straight A’s mean success, so I play their game,
But knowledge? Oh, no—that's not why I came.
I memorize, cram, then let it all go,
The second the test ends? ****...

I don’t know.

They call us the future, yet chain us to past,
Force us through molds, though none of us last.
We learn to obey, to raise our hand high,
To follow directions— but to never ask why?

For school isn’t built for learners like me,
It’s made for compliance, for mindless decree.
I’m forced to sit here and play through my role
Because learning simply doesn’t happen at my school.

The sun is out.
The children scream and shout
All about.

There is no more school.
Everyone in the pool!
No more looking like a fool.

They run outside,
Find places to hide
And bikes to ride.

Everyone is having fun
No rush, no places to run.
Relax and play with anyone.

No one is stressed,
No more weight on their chests.
This is why summer is the best

You started to feel like a fever dream—
the chills, the sweat didn’t leave me.
I tried to revive us.

We did walk to school holding hands,
our long braids filled with
stories of our worlds.

I could not face you.
The equal footing disappeared
once the pretty boy liked you over me.
It grew into the ocean
when another boy became your world.

I tried to let go,
be graceful,
be accepting—
but the poison crept in.
The ivy grew all over me, and I let it.
This felt good and real.

Time washed us by—
days into years.
We aren’t the same anymore.

You are losing hair.
I am losing sleep.
Thanks for waving the white flag.

We can win again!

The sun is shining,
It's a warm day,
The air is filled with emotion:
It's the last day of school.

The air smells like broken pencils and cleaning spray,
Yet this one feels different.
The classroom bell is punctual like always,
Yet today it feels strangely far and nostalgic already.
The sun is warm as you get out of the building,
Yet it seems to evaporate the tears that threaten to fall on your cheeks.

Some are wishing goodbye,
Some are on their way home already;
Some are crying and hugging their favorite people,
Some are happy about not seeing those familiar faces again;
Some are taking pictures and selfies,
Some are content enough with their memories.

It's an unreal experience:
This day that felt so far away,
Is suddenly here;
This day I was so desperately longing for,
Is suddenly here;
This day that felt so big yet so insignificant,
Is suddenly here;
This day that felt like an empty promise,
Is suddenly here.

Do I like it?
The suddenness of this day,
The way we get thrown in the unknown,
The dreamlike haze of it all,
The way we feel so old and weary,
The loss of what we knew,
The way we feel like we are so new to this world,
I ask myself, do I like it?

A part of me is celebrating,
Because it's a happy day:
No more stress and nerves;
No more despised people nor situations;
More time to ourselves and our loved ones;
Our minds drift to summer skies.

But a part of me is melancholic already,
Because it's a sad day:
Will I get to see my classmates again?
Will I see my friends as much as I did at school?
Will I be remembered by my favorite teachers?
Will someone feel my absence?

A part of me wishes I could go back:
To live the memories again,
To cherish some people more,
To do better,
To fix the mistakes,
To be the perfect memory in everyone's mind.

But a part of me wants to move on,
And make new memories,
And cherish who actually matters,
And grow from where I am now,
And learn from the mistakes,
And be who this life and year made me today.

Everything comes to an end,
Even if it feels so far and impossible.
Everything comes to an end,
Even when we promise it won't.
Everything comes to an end,
Even if you don't like it.
Everything comes to an end,
And I think I've learned the lesson now.

I've lived so much,
And yet my life is only just beginning.