Ink stains on my hands
And lecture droning on . . .
Converse on my feet
And wings in my heart . . .
I’m trapped in this classroom,
But I know I’ve got the freedom to leave.
I can sit here and refuse to take notes.
No one would stop me if I stood up and screamed,
“My father was a monkey!”
But my inner dork just won’t let me stay home and sleep
Or get up and leave.
Just forty-three minutes left . . .
go back