ice, cold, snow

rain, sleet, hail

barrage my window

with attempts that do not fail

the classroom sings

it is nice and warm

but when that bell rings

there is nobody left to warn

the onslaught of terror

the beatings of pain

if it does not stop soon

it will all have been in vain

birds are chirping

their poor stomachs growl

for food they long

…their mother is still ways away

springtime cannot be soon enough

get me away from this prison

for until the clock strikes two-thirty

i am in my wintertime jail.

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written in my second period tech class, when it started raining. and it was cold. and my school ends at two-thirty.