They have dotted shirts.. shut up..

From the scorching hot desert stands grains of sand that mean nothing to me and some that mean a lot to me. I pour water into my mouth to quench my thirst. The water hurting as my dry throat tries to swallow it, I then make my way to a place that seems out of the ordinary, from the future, yes, science class. I lay my head on the desk, hot, tired, angry. People telling me to take out my books and do work. I slowly raise my fist into the air, raise my middle finger. Fuck you science.


How was my awesome attempt at beta?s new thang? (Only people who read the toriblog will understand why I put a? Instead of a ' )

Was my English good in that poem btw?