Dangers Of Study Hall
By Matt D., Georgetown, MA
The monotonous silence
Tears my psyche apart.
If I had a brain cell to play with,
I'd be considered quite smart.
The heater won't work,
But it gives off a hum.
The most interesting thing
Is a fly on my thumb.
They're cooking a cat in the kitchen,
The air smells like old grass,
But I'm happy right now,
'Cause I'm not in a class.
I tap with my pencil
As my mind rots away.
There's no fun to be had
In Study today.
I hear a slap from my neighbor;
He's right on the ball.
His quick thinking just saved us
From a bug on the wall.
This is the mile we must walk,
The dues we must pay.
The death of that bug
Was the most action all day.
We look at the clock,
But the time doesn't pass,
We're all still quite happy,
'Cause we're not in a class.
There's a pain in my rear,
And an ache in my head.
My muscles are heavy,
And feeling like lead.
There's nothing but blandness
In all that I see.
There's no escape from this boredom,
At least not for me.
Some fold paper airplanes,
Some people do their hair.
Some people sort the gum
That they find under their chair.
But wait! Did I hear ...?
Yes! That's it! It's the bell!
Shredding the silence
In its jangling knell!
We leap from our seats.
Through the door we can pass!
Then we slump with depression.
We must go to a class.
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