“April is the cruellest month,” said Eliot assuredly.
Some claim that prize for Februar’; they dislike snow, apparently.
I think I’d pick the month of eight, when school resumes and summer’s blown.
The teacher’s s’posed to celebrate, while students get to whine and moan.
But clearly in reality the teacher feels the same or worse.
To drive to school on August 12 can feel like riding in a hearse.
This post is a blend of the A to Z Blog Challenge and NaPoWriMo. To read other A to Z bloggers, click here. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that takes a position on T.S. Eliot’s claim about the cruelest month.