Small dots on the ceiling,
hold and quench my boredom;
counting everyone,
as the teacher drones on.
Some are bigger than others,
some are not whole,
but everyone is counted;
only to entertain
my own curious mind,
because
Small dots on the ceiling
hold and quench my boredom;
counting everyone,
as the teacher drones on.
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1 comment:
This is great. It's exactly how I feel when I'm sitting in class sometimes. I really like the words you use such as "quench" and "drones". And the repetition of the first stanza to finish the poem off is wonderful.
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