Cell Phone stare
A quiet Tap, tap, tap, beep.
Goes the sound of the red and black Nokia in my hand.
The teacher looks up
as if he heard a question.
But it's the sound of a phone ringing out an alarm
of a text received.
I look around to see who's phone it is.
It's the prep with the curly auburn hair
and an attitude of the "I rule the school."
I slip my phone inside my long sleeve shirt
as the large teacher waddles over to her
and asks for her phone.
She gives him the evil eye
as she hands him her pink phone.
A few people snigger at this but are sighently quieted
by the teachers icy stare.
"Get back to your math homework"
he grunts and waddles back to his desk.
The rest of the kids go back to math
But I pull out my Nokia and text to a friend,
math sucks.
A moment later
no, English sucks.
I text her back
they both do.
ja.
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I call this my poems. But then again, not all of them might be "poems." But I still think of them as poems. WORK TAGS
THE GOODS
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Hope. This chapter
was posted on Feb 2, 2012 by
IgneousVampire.
This is a solo work.
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"My little [and not so little] poems."
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Just for Fun
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