Shackled to the wood pulp
The textbook just a weary chain
I blink and curse, my eyes tear up
A deep and dreary pain

An elder voice drones on and on
Empty words bullet through my skull
My brain, a ship with a hole in the deck
Dangerously, numbingly full

The mighty pen may beat the sword
But even mightier still
Is the dreadful force of boredom
That assaults me like a drill

But is sympathy deserved
If there’s no real pain to feel?
Is education worth it
If it guarantees a meal?

So in the end, I count my blessings
And my ink-stained nose I grind
Spanish class may fry my brain
But my brain is still my mind