In Class

When I'm bored I love to see

Out of the window at the Palmyra tree.

When sir's voice drones through the calm,

I look out the door at the coconut palm.

If I'm tired, which is very often,

I stare and gaze at my fountain pen.

Sir's teaching sounds from very far

When my pencil box is a motor car.

I would rather doodle on the wood

Instead of listening in class as I should.

Instead of enriching my memory bank,

I'd rather let my mind go blank.

But when my tests I cannot pass,

It's all Sir's fault, the pompous ass.

The question he sets are just too tough,

And his red ink pen is just too tough.