Once I sat in a class of bore,
Snoring more as we deplored,
Just waiting, waiting to walk out the door,
Wanting lunch and nothing more.
This pointless work I could not bear,
Sitting on my cold, hard chair,
Merely whispering but receiving a glare
From my teacher with gnarled hair.
At the clock I did stare,
Craving nothing but fresh air,
Nodding, napping, pencil tapping,
Trying to avoid my teacher's glare.
Watching the door I thought of the gore
From the movie I saw the night before
When all of a sudden came a raspy roar
From someone I do not adore.
She stamped her foot upon the floor,
With a ferocity I could not ignore.
'Pay attention! ' she said, eyes glowing more,
With a demon radiance to the core.
'Please don't hurt me! ' Sadly pleading,
Now pretending to be reading,
Haunted by a ghastly presence
That seemed to float above the floor.
'Pay attention! ' she said again,
Nagging me to my wit's end.
The color of her eyes.. and the hovering gore
Made me want to leave the door
Forevermore.
Nodding, napping, brain relapsing,
Still dazed from the class before,
Anything to pass the time
As I long to hear the chime,
The chime that sets us free,
Wanting out and nothing more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem