every once in a while
when class gets dull
the teacher just blabbers
and taking notes is pointless
i prop my little chin
up on my little palm
i stare into the vastness
where my imagination awaits me
i daydream about everything
happiness, sadness, fear
my future, my past
the children i'll have
the husband i'll love
the good times i've loved
the bad times i hate
i daydream for seconds
that seem like hours
minutes that feel like years
my imagination is exercised
with each passing dream
my teacher catches me
deep into thoughts of fairy dust
and magic wands
suddenly, i'm smacked back
to the real world
back to trigonometry and calculus
my magic imaginary world
can wait until
class gets dull once more

-- sarah