Poem: The School Day Begins by Douglas Evans

Below is a poem about a typical day in which one goes to school and school begins.


The School Day Begins
by Douglas Evans


It's Monday morning at 7:01.
You’re still half asleep; your homework’s half done.
Your shower is cold; your oatmeal’s dry.
Your mother forgets to kiss you good-bye.
You’re walking to school; it’s thirty degrees.
Your fingers won’t work; your toes and ears freeze.
Your zipper is stuck; your left sneaker squeaks.
Your backpack strap snaps; your soup thermos leaks.
You slip on school steps; you trip in the hall.
The toilet floods in the bathroom stall.
The gym door is locked; library’s the same.
The principal greets you by the wrong name.
Your classroom is hot; the coat rack is packed.
Your bean sprout is dead; your clay pot is cracked.
Your pencils are dull; the sharpener jams.
Your fingers get crunched when your desktop slams.
Your math partner’s gone; your neighbor is rude.
Your teacher’s again in a crabby mood.
The morning bell rings; it is 8:01.
Come cozy up to the whiteboard,
Another school day’s begun.


Taken From:  http://www.wtmelon.com/a12Poems.html
***************************************************************
Analysis of poem:

• The poem is a description of how a student usually starts his day and goes to school, in which describes what usually happens at school.
• Making use of repetition, most of the sentences start with 'your', showing that this poem's target audience are students who are currently schooling.
• The poem describes the many challenges and experiences that students face at the start of school, whether physically or psychologically.
• The end of the sentences rhyme and this also helps to create a rhythm in which this poem can be read.

***************************************************************

My Creation:

What an Unlucky Day!

You wake up at half-past eight,

You realise that its already late!

Washing up in the bathroom,

You know that you're going to be doomed.

You rush down the stairs into the dining room,

And by accident, trip over the broom.

You pick yourself up and see the pup,

You remember to feed the pup.

You put its food into your cup,

Don't know why but you supped it up.

You spit it out,

Onto its snout.

You had no choice but to clean it up,

You looked up at the calendar hung up,

You realise that its a Sunday,

You say,

"What an unlucky day!"

 - Heng Wei Shin