This Very Day.

Young minds sit behind the white screens of machinery,
fingers relentlessly working away.
"What are we supposed to write about?" they say.
Deep down they know.
Yes, they know.

Across the way,
an irritated women posts a blog.
Mainly for the fact that the children,
the older children,
on whom she relied on to post,
hadn't posted at all.

And so,
this poem,
this creative poem,
on a creative writing blog,
on this very day,
is in honor of the young minds,
and the irritated woman,
of the honors english class.

May you always care about the class.