They in their desks, and we in ours,
watching the clock and everyone’s eagerness to get out and, and pass the hours
sympathizing with the other’s misery,
To lessen their own burning pain.
teachers could but little want to exchange
Save that their classes will have a larger range.
That bully with his mean, untamed heart
Has some animal in his animalistic brain,
Some lofty soul’s head in dreams and visions wrapped,
But in the unbearable flesh securely trapped.
Skinny girl whose raw opinions stain the glooms
In that prison you, so many cry for the bathrooms!
Some delve down like a mole far underground,
(Their nature is to burrow, not to bound),
Some, like the snakes, with unchanging inactive eyes,
Study not, but sleep and smoulder where they lie.
Who is most wretched, these smart ones, or we,
Caught in a hugeness beyond our vision to see?