The School on Third Street

The school on Third Street is a big brown building. It’s a brown building filled with brown people. The kids are as brown as Willy Wonka’s chocolate but not as sweet. The kids act like thugs but really just need a hug. They are like actors playing the tough-guy role in an urban movie. The girls are under age but look old enough to drink. They are immature little girls with fully grown bodies. The common theme of the girls is having big rear ends, but not so attractive faces. The kids are wild, loud and obnoxious like chimpanzees screaming in a tiny cage. The school has different shades of chocolate and even some vanilla. The chocolates and vanillas stay close to their own flavor and disregard all the others. Most of the kids are very unaware that they’re continuing a never-ending cycle of ignorance. Forty-four minutes each period for nine periods. Nine periods of ignorance, hypocrisy, stupidity and a whole bunch of ghetto nonsense. If you bask in the ignorance long enough, it’ll stick to you like maple syrup glued to your fingers. It’s hard to stay pure in a school full of impurities and social enemies. You can’t help but want to blend in with the chocolate even if you’re vanilla. Your sense of morality might change, you might justify your wrong actions and pretend like they were right. It’s just like any other high school, the popularity crowds, drug influence, peer pressure, you name it. It’s a big brown building filled with big brown people. It’s high school, Union High school.