Twas the Night Before School Starts
By Ron Yorgason
T’was the night before school starts and all through the place,
Not a smile was seen On any kid’s face.
Our bags were all stuffed with our notebooks brand new,
And rulers and pencils with erasers to chew.
Mournfully we all crawled into bed,
Knowing too well that the ‘good life’ was dead.
Then mom came in whistling and kissed us goodnight,
With a bright cheery voice that didn’t seem right.
The night dragged on slowly I just couldn’t sleep,
For fear that my math teacher Would be a real creep.
Or maybe a bully would give a shove,
Or even more evil things than I could think of.
When from in the next room there arose such a clummer,
My mom yelled,”I’m FREE!, I’m free ‘til next summer!”
This must be a plot by conspiring moms,
Who just want a break to experience ‘calm.’
Oh, must I go through it? How can I go on?
I want to escape run off to Saigon!
Nine months is too long to suffer through school
The classes so rough and teachers who’re cruel.
“Come Donald! Come Conner! Come Henry VanStation!
Come up to the board, do your multiplication!”
“And Julie, stop talking! And Jimmy, wake up!
And, Mary,right now, Don’t do your makeup!”
Teachers ever are hounding they just never quit.
You do something wrong, they go into a fit.
And so every year about this same time,
I lie in bed sleepless and just moan and whine.
Until morning comes,
and I hear my mom say,
“Good luck with your school!
And have a nice day!”
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