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bored taiga

Sitting in neat rows
Fidgeting and looking around,
Just another tedious lecture.

Whispered conversations
And muffled laughter
At the lecturer’s constant sighing.

A pen in hand,
Notebooks open,
Initially furiously scribbling notes.

Slowly struggling to catch up
With the plethora of information
And a bullet train of a lecture.

Interest dying away,
Energy levels plummeting,
And brains shutting down.

Stiffling a yawn
And stretching arms out,
Just to keep awake.

The ones at the back
With heads bowed down,
Collapsing from boredom.

The lecturer’s voice droning
In and out of our ears,
In and out of our minds.

Sneakily we glance at the clock
Praying for time to pass,
Praying for the bell to ring.

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