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.