Introduction

I have launched my blog, so I think it's important to explain the content visitors will see.

To start with, I will be posting poetry and articles on football. And since I want visitors of my blog to be happy, I will try and be posting regularly.

I will like to say my poems are of high quality. As a perfectionist, everything I do, I want it to be of a high standard. So, I invest so much of my time and energy to produce these quality poems. The classroom is one of them. I will be posting on poetry intermittently.

But, I will be posting regularly On football, as I don't want my readers to be bored as I prepare to post new poems. As a Chelsea fan, I will tell you to expect more on Chelsea. But I will be posting on all teams.

To conclude, I want to talk about my followers who will like to subscribe for more poetry. Subscriptions are welcomed.

Please don't forget to like the contents and also comment. You can also follow me on facebook and Twitter for links and updates. You are all welcomed. Thank you.

The classroom

Welcome to my blog where I post poetry and football news. Today I have a poem I want to share with you. It's titled the classroom. This poem is in five stanzas with varying lines and it's divided into two parts;

The first part shows the classroom as a bond that binds two different group of student together: the students with ego and ones with no ego.

The second part shows how these two group of students behave after completion.

I know you are hungry to read this saucy and educative poem, so I will show you now.

The classroom is

a bond, that binds

Students with ego

and ones with no ego

together: These sky-high egos

Don't drop,

and when the bond breaks,

The heads, with no ego  

Try to merge it;

They do stoop too low,

and try to wrap their arms

Around the neck 

of the other students,

But the garments,

Their hands don't even touch.

The heads with the inflated

Ego stick to each other.

They all put their

prides firmly on their

stylish hairs.

Behind each too heavy 

pride is a folded cloth.

They march through cities

And towns with all these 

burdens, in pairs;

The two legs slowly 

cross each other in style,

While their arms are interwoven.

when you wink at them,

they won't wink back,

when you wave a hand,

they won't wave back,

when you call them, they 

Reply, 'do I know you?'

When you explain, they say 

'oh! I've forgotten you'.

Because they are lost 

in the fog of Fame,

The cobweb of pride,

And on the shore of success;

Should we match them

A foot by a foot

Into the hall of shame?

Take note, until you catch 

your stars, they won't know you.

I hope you enjoyed reading this piece of art. Your comments are welcomed.