by Natasha Austin

Created on: March 16, 2009

As I look out into a sea of grass,

Stretching on out to a sky of blue,

I'm reminded of my history class

The number of students, not a few.

The professor I refuse to say his name

Drones out the lectures in a monotone,

And talks extra slowly that's his fame

While time seems to drag on and on.

Our attention he tries hard to keep,

And though we've sat through every word,

The majority of us are half asleep,

So none of us could tell you what we've heard.

It would not be so bad a class to take,

If only all of us could stay awake!

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