300 views, I think it's about time I start getting my act together.......

I feel sick. Sick to my stomach that I live in a country that is bent on terrorism, money, oil, suped up fast cars, degrading women, and selfishness. Sorry that I have no good news. I'm sorry that the way how I might feel come out the wrong way, but that's the TRUTH so here it goes.......

To anyone who reads this, and to anyone who cares
please listen to a tale I bare
Forget about format, structure, and tools
And read with your eyes that the government rules.
There was a boy who attended a high school,
Who suffered great issues such as overcrowding and crime.
Now since no one had the time, One teacher had made up his mind.
The boy no taller than the teacher
Teaches Economics for a living, A.K.A "The Schools Preacher"
Selects "The Boy" and two others for something important
A south-american, an african american,
and a person believed to be just american
Who are no taller than the teacher
Were asked to take a stand that was told would decide the future
Of all three, only one vowed to tweak the schools "features".
The South-american Exclaimed that he didn't have a day to.
The "Rebellious Gothic American" had to say....
"I have to attend my fathers birthday."
all petty, excuses all been said, the african-american went instead.
Snowing, Early year 2004, feeling like going back to bed.
The african-american leered in dread.
Recited his speech that he would give to the council,
picking, and revising with his pen-like utensil.
Passing it back and forth to the teacher within cyber space,
Having him look through every word, every phrase.
Cutting it right, took much time.
Eventually the composition was ready and looking fine.
The day has come, bare your clothes, jacket and head to city hall,
for it is time to tell the tale of all!
The african-american walked in with his "The Preacher"
The boy no taller than the teacher.
As we awaited, the chancellor of public schools had spoke
only to hear nothing but coughs and chokes,
and mindless taunts and babbles that are made
the african-american awaits his stage....
The council then dismisses the well known class clown,
and asks the boy to go to the mound.
The boy steps up, his heart races, he cannot believe the cameras,
the people, and "The Preacher", Mutters to himself
"what am I doing here?" UNTIL VERY QUICKLY,
Something shoots up his spine, he can focus clearer,
he decides its now or never and looks at the "The Preacher"
The boy whose taller than the teacher...
He speaks and beseechs of the wrong doings of his school,
which is fell on deaf ears fools. Spoke about re-form and change.
As the boy attemps to grasp there tiny brains
starts get undivided attention of the masses in the room,
who has long forgotten of his stage impending doom.
He finishes his testimony, before he gives any additional suggestions...
He asks "Does anyone have any more questions?"
They clap, cheer, and congradulate
As all the suited-devil's come forth to me and advocate..
Dumbfounded as the day is long, the boy so happy he could sing
a song.
Comes down from the podium meeting up with "The Preacher"
The Boy is no longer taller than the teacher.
Years fly, plant's die, yet relive.
After graduation, after suffocation, but yet the boy lives.
Remembering on the ye old faithful day, he went to high school
after the dismay.
He felt not but one soul cared for what he done,
better yet of what he almost become.
A puppet of strings pulling in all different directions,
Who can't understand why it all stayed the same.
Yet as he relives the moment daydreaming on the train,
He is ignored, existence not implored, a abandoned toy.
BY THE TEACHER WHO IS TALLER THAN THE BOY.

--Lennon21

Hell, I tried to be poetic, My first poem in a while. I kinda need it. To release some vision, until I start getting the equipment to start drawing. I hope that this poem heeds us growing young men and women of tomorrow. ONE PERSON CANNOT FIGHT THE SYSTEM ALONE.......