Egg first or chicken first?

Competition detail:
You need to write an essay of about 100 words. End your essay wiith... "and that's proof that the chicken came before the egg"

Competition entry:
Egg first or chickent first? a millennia old catch 22 argument which has been disputed over and over throughout the years. To settle the argument, I lay down the following facts.

The egg came first
Some will say
But the chicken came first
By the river Tay

The egg will not hatch
By the freezing river
Unless there's a chicken
to highten the temperature

The egg needs a guardian
for protection and warmth
and that the chicken provides
beneath its motherly form

Without the chicken
the egg will not survive
the egg will not hatch
if it is deprived

and that's proof that the chicken came before the egg.

Drip, drip.

Drip, drip, the sound of rain reaching the ground,
Like tears from the sky it comes pouring
accompanied with strong winds which change directions
It comes in a rush with hardly any warning.
undated, 2001

Drip, drip, the rain comes through the tattered roof
and collects on the ceiling
The dirty droplets seep through the ceiling beams
and suddenly, it's raining in my home

Drip, drip, my mattress gets soak
and I move important things out.
Soon, it starts pouring
Right here, in my room.

Drip drip, the sound of rain reaching the ground, like tears from the sky it comes pouring
accompanied with strong winds which change directions
It comes in a rush with hardly any warning.

Pappi!

For my dad's birthday

You were my first love
when i was five,
i wanted someone like you
under which I would thrive

You were my answering machine,
When I was seven;
You were the answer to everything,
To which I could question.

When I was nine,
You were an irritant;
Everything was a game
but you never waited your turn.

When I was twelve
you were a disciplinarian;
I hated you a lot
I thought you were an alien

When I was forteen,
You were my idol
I wanted to be like you
althought i am a girl.

Now I am sixteen
as mature as can be;
Happy Birthday Pappi
Hugs & Kisses from me!

Mr. Chin

Birthday Poem for a beloved Teacher.
(composed last minute before literature class to put into his B'day card)

Whether or not your Birthday is tomorrow
I'm not even that sure
I just assumed its the sixth of June
as stated on your I/C number.

Even if it's not as I thought it was
I still wish you a very happy birthday
Whenever it is, wherever it is
I hope you enjoy the day

You've only taught me from January to May
I started five months before today
But in time so short, you've taught me a lot
More than I can ever repay

No matter how bad this poem suck
I hope it won't end up in a rubbish truck
Keep it somewhere so that you remember
This student of yours forever and ever

Happy Birthday Mr. Chin
Thank you for Teaching Me.

Tuesday Morning, 4 BR

Unamed, undated, year 2001

Today is a beautiful day
brightened by the sun, cooled by the winds.
But it is spoilt by the monotone of school
rushin in and out,
waiting for the next class
From the physics test, to the biology lab
And than to class for a period of E math.

English is taught by a young lady teacher,
a very sweet girl, who smiles all the time
But she thinks in malay and teaches us english,
her grammar is unruly, her accent - a monotone.

She's teaching us literature, a new component
a new syllabus, started last year
Everyone is making noise, the guys are restless
People are asking questions, for me, I'm bored.
I'm not listening, instead I'm here
writing this composition, albeit a poor one

The literature is done, and there's time to spare
We're singing nursery rhymes and than come some games
'win, lose or draw' is next on the line
Everyone is happy, I'm no longer bored
For an english teacher, she's mediocre
but, i admit she's a nice girl
I wish very much, she teachers something else
english is not a subject to which she's suited.

class is ended, next is math
This poem stops here, a poor one it is
Written when I'm bored of analysing poems
It is ironic that I should write this
at a time when I should've been studying literature.