My teachers said, “Go write a poem.”
1 page is the minimum,
this poem is for Pandamonium.
I don’t know what to write about,
this really won’t be fun,
they said we would have 30 minutes,
now that time has begun.
And 30 minutes later,
my teachers yell, “Now your time is done!”

Speaking of teachers,
why don’t I write about 5-302?
“Who is 5-302,” you ask?
Who is 5-302?!
Well, you should know because 5-302 is
certainly better than you,
but if you do not,
it means your brain has started to rot.

Should I tell you?
If I do, it will just seep into your brain,
which is made out of goo.
You are not very smart,
I knew that from the start.
When you said you didn’t know 5-302.
So, if I tell you, will you spread the word?
That they are the coolest class ever,
and Max is the biggest bird?

Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,
just kidding,
or should I tell you,
with your brain made of goo?
Fine, fine, fine, fine,
it was my fifth grade class.
Now, we made a deal:
Go tell everyone that we are the coolest,
And Me/I/Max is the biggest bird.
Goodbye, less cool person than me.

P.S. Make sure you remember 5-302!
BYE.