The clock is ticking
faster than I could ever want;
My footsteps are heavy,
And everything around me seems to taunt…

I know this poem is childish
but so is my dilemma,
It’s early in the morning & my mind screams –
“Why 8 o’ clock classes mammaaahhhh…?!”

Once in class
I wait for the projector to flicker to life,
So I can slip into oblivion,
And tune out the unrelenting tripe;

As though by magic, the clock drops dead
Mocking at me in gleeful disdain;
And beg & coax & plead as I may
to bring it back to life
It’s all in vain, all in vain…

Somehow the endless torture
screeches to an unseeming halt,
But my mind is so numb, I simply wonder –
“Is all this really my fault?!”

Slowly & gradually,
I come back into being,
As we scuttle back to our nests
to do what we’re best at doing,
Mocking back at Time & doing nothing…

>>> I tried hard to get the lines indented "appropriately", but then the damn editor doesn't have any poetic sense, so just bear with ze fragmented rhyming (and the inanity as well:D )