by Ephraim J. (8th Grade)

For this newsletter, us poor students enslaved by the Newsleditors were told to write poetry in the style of poems that we have been recently reading for Literature. Those have mostly been Romantic poetry and Free verse. Now, since Free verse is evil, twisted, and very unpleasing, this poem must be considered Romantic poetry, no matter how little it seems like classic Romantic poetry.

The picnic table, at where we luncheon
Is often covered in stuff.
It makes it slightly hard to muncheon
In fact, it’s rather rough.

Those rocks and sticks and other things
We’d easily move away;
But perhaps it is the joy they bring
That keeps them where they stay.

Either that, or it could be
That this job we’d rather shirk.
Discomfort seems so sweet to me,
Compared with physical work.