Ode to Classroom Boredom

Visibility: Open to anyone

I write lines of poetry during class when I am bored. This is a compilation of the verses from 2013-14.

As I sit here in a class,                            
My eyes glaze over, as if glass.
My mind is numb.
I feel so dumb.
Soon I am going to crash.

Still I just try to press on
'Till the feeling's nearly gone
And find some object's mass.

Another question comes along
I know already I got it wrong
I'm desperate just to pass.

I wish that I could put to rest
My feelings after enduring the test.
But alas once again
The time that I spent
Could not help me reach the crest.

I simply cannot fathom why
When so hard I try and try.
But it's still not enough,
So my grade takes a cuff.
Am I made of the right stuff?
I suppress the urge to cry.

Inside my mind is churning
For, instead of learning,
I write adventures in my head.

Try as I may
They won't go away
And to far off lands I'm sped.

Tales of adventure, tales of old
Oh the tales I have prepared to be told.
If only enough of them could be sold,
I could write and write until I'm old.

Now back to science, back to math
But is this truly the right path?

Long have I debated
And for the answer waited
But the logical choice
Would quell my voice.
Oh, my thoughts are tainted.

Math and Science can't explain

Things so underlying.

Things like love and joy and pain

Though not for lack of trying.


Engineering has its place

In this world so vast.

But there are things it can't replace;

The arts will ever last.


In just a few short simple lines

Poems can delight.

Emotions like nothing else, define

Bringing them to light.


With verse you can say so much

Using words so few.

Rhyming is an extra touch

Like a sunset to a view.

Back to reality, write more notes.
But I wish they'd be eaten up by goats.

Is this normal or is it a curse?
Will it get better or only worse?
If the latter, I may need a hearse.

There's so much inside me, ready to get out.
But life is a stopper on the spout.

Stories flow freely from my mind
But numbers somehow hide.
When they become too hard to find,
My attention starts to slide.

Writing poems in my head,
My thoughts again turn.
Classes drag like lumps of lead
And in my seat I squirm.

The professor now clears the board,
But I don't understand
The long equations somehow poured
From his experienced hand.
The others all get their reward
But I can't meet the demand.

So much still needs to be stored,
In my mind I need a ford
To cross the rushing river.
Even though I feel so bored
Silently I ask my Lord
If he could please deliver.

Silence may be all I hear
But somehow gone is my fear.
Inside I give a little cheer
As He continues to steer.

When it comes to friends, I have plenty
But none are quite the same.
Only a few have heard of Henty
And they have their own strains.

John Tesh, Ryan Farish and Ulrich Schnauss
Help me through the day.
Keeping me from getting cross
And feeling like a stray.

Owl City keeps me cheered
With words so wise yet simple.
Though some might say that I am weird,
I can always flash a dimple.

Perhaps one day I will find peace
But until then I shall not cease
These chains to try and release
And my fulfillment to increase.