The teacher drones on
But I am not studying my ‘prose’.
I am off, far away, in my head
Where anything goes
And people don’t judge you
Or look down their nose
Or suddenly know your whole life story
Based on your clothes
And they carry around books
Instead of iPhones.
And the boys?
Well the boys.
Feel all your ‘book pain’
And listen to your laments
‘Till the dawn comes again.
And when you are down, and are feeling blue
They write you a note, with an
‘I love you.’
And spend the whole day
Copying down each rune
That would make you feel better
And help you smile too.
As I snap back to reality (and the class that I’m in….)
I realize something
And secretly grin.
For even though a world like that
Would be nice, I suppose
For now its a world
Only YOU get to know.
Enchanted Forest 