Poem- My School Day

During my primary school days,

I slept quite early every day.

I always had a clean shoe,

my CCA was wushu.

There wasn't a badge that time,

but now with a badge it's still fine.

Every Monday we had to wear a tie,

Drops of sweat dripped into my eye.

Sometimes I was real unlucky,

having bees buzzing around me

During the National Anthem.

My stomach would always churn.

Finally its time to go home,

I packed up and left my "throne"

I realized I had lots of homework,

but there was nothing else I could do.

Online Learning- Favourite Poem or Song Lyrics

The Simple Truth by Philip Levine

I bought a dollar and a half's worth of small red potatoes,
took them home, boiled them in their jackets
and ate them for dinner with a little butter and salt.
Then I walked through the dried fields
on the edge of town. In middle June the light
hung on in the dark furrows at my feet,
and in the mountain oaks overhead the birds
were gathering for the night, the jays and mockers
squawking back and forth, the finches still darting
into the dusty light. The woman who sold me
the potatoes was from Poland; she was someone
out of my childhood in a pink spangled sweater and sunglasses
praising the perfection of all her fruits and vegetables
at the road-side stand and urging me to taste
even the pale, raw sweet corn trucked all the way,
she swore, from New Jersey. "Eat, eat" she said,
"Even if you don't I'll say you did."
Some things
you know all your life. They are so simple and true
they must be said without elegance, meter and rhyme,
they must be laid on the table beside the salt shaker,
the glass of water, the absence of light gathering
in the shadows of picture frames, they must be
naked and alone, they must stand for themselves.
My friend Henri and I arrived at this together in 1965
before I went away, before he began to kill himself,
and the two of us to betray our love. Can you taste
what I'm saying? It is onions or potatoes, a pinch
of simple salt, the wealth of melting butter, it is obvious,
it stays in the back of your throat like a truth
you never uttered because the time was always wrong,
it stays there for the rest of your life, unspoken,
made of that dirt we call earth, the metal we call salt,
in a form we have no words for, and you live on it.

Reason Why I Like This Poem

I like this poem because it is simple to understand. Although it is a little wordy, it is easy to comprehend. I can understand what the author is mainly trying to say and the words she uses to describe are very nice.

Figurative Speech Used In the Poem

In the second line of the poem, the author mentioned boiling the potatoes in their jackets. The jackets she is referring to is the skin of the potatoes. In the fifth last line, the author said " It stays in the back of your throat like a truth". It is obvious that the thing she is talking about does not really stay in her throat, she is using figurative speech to say that she regrets what she had done and the thing keeps on bothering her, like something staying in her troat.