Looking around me,
Not many are actually working I see,
One is yawning staring blankly at his paper,
He glances at anotheir's work,
As to catch inspiration,
Next to him is anotheir,
Scratches the back of his neck,
Reads the board once more,
And clicks his pencil twice more,
Across from him is a lady who catches on,
And uses her folder to prevent being mimicked,
As she writes steadily,
She only glances up only once or twice,
A little ways away is anotheir lad,
Who reviews previous work,
With narrowed eyes,
Then he whispers across the table,
Not too far is anotheir inspecting his hands,
He then relaxes his head into his hands,
And yawns as he stares blankly off into space,
Next to him is a she who works on her work,
Stares at it reviews it,
Then she pulls out an eraser to erase her work,
In the far back of the room is someone new,
He looks blankly around the room,
Confused on what to do so he sits,
Just diagonally from me,
Is someone who notices me looking around,
Chitchats for a second then gets up to leave,
Where he would have sat,
Next to that is a confusing man,
He has a menacing posterior,
Hardly speaks stares at his paper through a hand,
Next to him is amusing fellow,.
Who works hard on his paper,
And looks like he is on the brink of discovery,
Next to him is a sweet girl,
She is doubtful of herself,
Who is writing but stops and thinks about her next step,
Then theire is a girl who is hardly here,
Works diligently when she is,
To play catch up with everyone else,
Then theire is a boy who stares,
Open-mouthed at his paper,
Slowly closes his eyes,
And then jumps awake,
At the sound of the door opening and closing,
This is what an average person sees,
Some working,
And some inspiring otheirs work