I wish to be anywhere

But here.

To be far away,

from this mind-numbing place.

Breaking free,

from this monotonous routine

That withers away my creativity.

Upon entering this scheduled world,

Smiles fade, and faces turn grim.

We walk into the deadly silence,

As quiet as a funeral procession.

We sit sullenly,

Prisoners broken of free will,

Unhappy with life, sorrowful,

With pained expressions on our faces.

The dull gray scratch of pencils,

And the smothered whisperings of paper,

Fill the classroom with their eerie melody.