A/N: All right, here's the deal with this poem; after my eighth grade class finished our first big research papers for history, the English teachers got the bright idea that we should write a poem about them. They told us that as long as it had something to do with our paper, we were ok. Most people figured that meant we had to write about the person we researched or the Civil Rights Movement in general. (That was the topic of our papers.) I decided to write about the research process partly to be different, partly because I could make the poem lighter that way, but mostly because I figured it would be easier to write. So there I was, at 1 a.m. with two days to the deadline and not a word on my page, and I, not being a poet by any means, simply threw some words down on the page and, much to my surprise, it vaguely resembles bad poetry! Anywho, I decided to post it because I figured you all might get a kick out of reading my feeble attempts at poetry. Oh, and by the way, if you just read all that you must be really bored. I know I am for writing it. Anywho, thanks for reading and please review! ~Shades of Grey

My Civil Rights Paper

I've survived, though just barely, this whole ordeal,

Although far away my mind fled, I fear.

Hours of research, book after book

Writing an intro that must have a "hook"

My brain is on overdrive, my thoughts in a twist

Born here, buried there. Please oh please get the gist!

You say seventh-grade's hard? Oh how little you know!

One step up and they give you all they can throw!

How oh how did I get so mixed up in this mess?

My whole body's tired, I just need to rest.

This one last thought I shall leave you with, then.

When it comes your turn, I advise, turn to Zen

Or you too will be driven so far 'round the bend.

There now, this is through. This rant I shall end.

A/N#2: just incase anyone's keeping track, I find high school is even harder than eighth grade, if you can believe it!