Class
I sit in class with my thoughts on blast,
The paper in front is one of the last
I fidget with my pencil and remain outcast
And act oblivious to the obvious task.
The teacher walks around, reviewing each kid;
I remain unphased, and continue to stay hid
The teacher walks past, along the floor grid
I don’t peep a sound as my thoughts start a bid.
I cannot do this task that has been handed to me,
When my thoughts won’t stop bothering me
It pains me that they live rent free,
And I really wish I could be set free.
I look at the work that is undone,
I cannot finish now or it will be numb
However later on it will be done
Only when I do not feel this unfun.
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