The first one I'll post is the oldest one I have a copy of (although I've got a ton of old notebooks, folders, and Trapper Keepers from my middle and high school career at my parent's house so there may be some older ones I am unaware I have a copy of). This one comes from all the way back in 1995, when I was in 10th grade:
Hell
The hordes march slowly toward it,
a place feared by many
How any ordinary building can be
so feared is uncanny
But of course, 'tis not the building
they really fear
but the monsters that lurk inside
that they must revere
They are herded through the doors
and down the hall
pushed towards their cells with no hope
for escape at all
You, spirit broken, just give in
and follow the masses
The bell rings, and all the kids
head for their classes
I've never been one who liked authority and this clever little poem was my 15 year old way of fighting the power. Yes, I was quite the rebel back then.
Although its message still rings true to how students are treated as cattle or prisoners that are at the whim of their captors. And in the end most students do just give in and trod along through school as mindless zombies. I'm sure I noticed the irony of someone who refuses to give in to authority writing about how everyone gives up in the end, and I'm sure I thought myself extremely clever.
The poem in its original form had an additional line at the end of, "It's Hell!!!". I added that in because, at the time, I thought the symbolism and imagery of the preceding four stanzas were just too subtle. However, as I matured I realized that was a bit much and made an artistic decision to excise that line. It is pretty much on the same scale as George Lucas going back and messing with the original Star Wars. Pretty much.
Also, part of the reason the title of this poem was particularly relevant in my 10th grade English class was because of the teacher, let's call her Mrs. T (to protect her anonymity, even though she is probably dead by now). Her classroom was a bit like hell... not because she was a bad teacher, or mean, or abusive. No, it was because she smelled horrible. Really. It is hard to describe it-- it was B.O. and yet so much more. It wasn't one of those odors you got used to after a while either; it was omnipresent. There was no escape. Particularly bad was the times we would be writing in class and she would come around and check up on you by leaning over your desk in such an odd was as to strategically position her armpit near your cowering nose. It seemed a strange way to stand and it left me to wonder if she did it intentionally.
We could always tell when Mrs. T was out sick. If we were walking down the English hallway to our classroom and we didn't smell her, we knew we had a substitute. I'm serious-- it sounds unbelievable but it's true. We had a 100% success rate using that method. Maybe that'll give you reading this a sense of the olfactory hell we went through.
Of course, there were some urban legends that went around about Mrs. T. There was a rumor that for Christmas one year one of her classes got her a present of soaps, deodorants, etc. and that she left the room crying. There was also the rumor that she smelled that way because she slept with the body of her dead husband. I know, it is horribly mean, but we were high schoolers, what do you want?
And thus is the story behind "Hell".
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