School is dumb.
It makes me super tired.
Can I leave?
That was the haiku I wrote for class. I'm good at art but not writing. I can only paint. The edges of the paper are covered in doodles. One was of the school burning but I had to erase that one so they didn't think I was going to actually do it. For the record, I wasn't. Just saying. I sighed. Literary arts is such a stupid class. I was just doing it to get the credit, without the credit, I couldn't graduate. I glanced up at Iris for the millionth time that period. Her hair was styled in a loose bun that I always loved. I'd had a crush on her for years but could never tell her. She's like my best friend and I couldn't bear to lose her. She caught my eye from across the table and smiled at me. She glanced over at the teacher and passed a note under the table.
What did you write? It said in her elegant handwriting Here's mine:
Life is rough
But we still fight through it all
When it's hard
I know it's not great but it's something.
I love it. I wrote Mine's not any good:
School is dumb.
It makes me super tired.
Can I leave?
I passed the note back and watched as she read it. She laughed a little before scribbling something down.
Yours kind of reflects everyone's mood. It read. I smiled at her and tucked the note into my pocket. Just then the bell rang dismissing us to lunch.