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Joseph Grijalva





††††††††††† I canít remember exactly when I though of the main idea behind this poem, but it was either at Jesuit or my Middle School when the bell startled me as I walked past it.The idea probably evolved in my hind between my time at the two schools.I do remember that, when I first went to Middle School, I really hated listening to the bell.It was loud and obnoxious, and seemed to have a habit of ringing itself exactly when I walked underneath it.


The Bell


That horrible clanging bell

with its buzzing noise

begins and ends our school day hell.

Causing us to spend our time

yearning for its unearthly knell.


Where begins a perfect day

is quickly tarnished in an audible way

any hope we might have had

of the day becoming something other

than the school day bad.


Yet things are rarely so bad

s they may seem

and as we write our notes

on lengthy paper reams

we wait for the end of the day

for the buzzing sound

that sends us away.