CLASS TO CLASS (o)

The teacher's lecture still goes on,
his words reeking hypocrisy.
He's speaking to the podium
of regulated society.
His heart isn't in his lesson,
he's payed to pretend to teach.
I'd rather not have to listen,
but I'm told I need this degree.

Minutes pass by like they're hours,
and the class seems to last for days.
It's a taxing trial of ours,
to listen, when we don't want to stay.
The only way to learn of life
is letting our eyes take a look.
There are only queations inside
the teacher's big answer book.

Then, finally, the bell rings.
I pick up my books from the floor,
down the stairs my body sings,
quickly dashing out through the door.
I come outside to the open air,
just outside the law building.
I find a tranquility there,
in outdoors open setting.

I sense the greenness of the grass,
seeking the wisdom of the trees.
I can experience at last
that this is where my life should be.
With deep blue sky apove my head,
I've so manyquestions to ask.
Joining fellow students up ahead,
we all sense an important task.

-dp-           
12-4-82