A Poem from the Archives

Written in Grade 10, a grand effort inspired by a classmate who was being sort of annoying:

Once there was someone
Whose head was not good;
A crayon he broke
On his head, which would
Addle the wits that were left him
quite good.

***

In graveyard fields
I, ***, lie
The cricket's chirp
My lullaby.
For restlessly
[in spirit still]
I wander about
Those who see me
Scream and shout
I died at school
Not long ago
[(of boredom)]
At least I now
French can forego.