My Schoolbag

Inside my bag, there’s every kind of thing —
Crayons, erasers, an old rubber ring,
A notebook smudged with jam somehow,
And an apple far too ripe right now.

Each morning it weighs a ton, it’s true,
But I still carry it — off we go!
I hurry along the road to school,
My bag bounces to its own cool rule.

Inside there hides a secret too:
A drawing made for my teacher, brand new,
A smooth little stone from the garden ground,
For luck to follow me all around.

My schoolbag’s almost a friend of mine,
It follows me quietly all the time.
At night I set it down with care,
Ready for tomorrow, waiting there.