Bored
I sit at my desk wondering if this class will ever end,
Will lunch ever come? Will I ever find my friend?
What if she died? Maybe I’m going to die also,
Is there anyone who will let me know?
I guess I’ll just be surprised by the darkness,
The loss of reality.
Maybe I deserve to die; o’ poor me.
I see them coming with their knives and stones,
Coming to snap me in half and break all of my bones.
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