tHaM
That’s what I see when I look down
A bunch of mess all around.
I can’t say it was my best friend
The countless numbers never end.
I am being forced to take this class
I hope I can get out of it fast.
This may sound mean but it is very hard
I just don’t see math in my cards.
Jumbled up confusion makes my head spin
I feel like a loser, this battle I can’t win.
So hopefully soon I can say goodbye
I really don’t like math, I’m sorry I can’t lie.
I’m glad others do, we need to be taught
The more a teacher enjoys it, we can learn a lot.
Math isn’t for everyone, I don’t think it is for me
It won’t help what I do or what I want to be.
I am at a loss for words, I can’t say more
When one is closed, there’s always an open door.
~ Jennifer R. W. Vargas
November 2004
A silly poem about my dislike for Math before dropping out of Algebra II. Age 17
An End Marks a Beginning
They say all good things must come to an end
That times draws near and we try hard to pretend
Life just keeps going and nothing will fade
We’ll always remember the friends that we made.
Such joy is felt as that day draws near
We try to keep it together, not shed a tear.
Even those who just can’t wait to leave
Will be proud of what they’ve worked for years to achieve.
Senior year, brings our time to a close
The work we’ve done finally shows.
A special day we have come to be a part
Express the final words we wish to impart.
Nothing is dearer than what we leave behind
Except the hope of the future we seek to find.
What we’ve learned will not be a waste
The memories we’ve gained shall not be replaced.
What final advice do we hope to gain?
What memories will always remain?
We might not remember the here and the now
But we will always be connected together somehow.
High School can be described in a variety of ways
Hopefully with pride of how you spent your final days.
Be proud of the last four years you have spent
And may Graduation be a defining event.
Live life to its fullest and may you never forget
Life is what you make it, live without a single regret.
~ Jennifer R. W. Vargas
2005
A poem about Senior year of high school. Age 17
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