Third Period

Is it ironic that my least favorite class is Creative Writing, or something else?
Karma, perhaps, punishing me for something by trapping me in a class
for an hour and a half every day with a teacher who seems to
think we're in pre-school?
Someone save me.



Time

Tick tock
All eyes
On the clock

Seconds pass
Patience drains
Why are we still here?

A minute closer
Too many more to go
Get us out of here

Pacing impatiently
The anticipation is
Too much

We can't take it
Set us free
Let us go

Tick tock
Tick tock

Bliss