Twenty odd years ago when life was nothing but easy, there was one particular issue that most university students had to endure- early morning classes. To add to the hardship, it would always be on an exceptionally serious subject. In my case, Literature. The thick hardcover brown book was a no nonsense reading material. It was heavy in every sense of the word. Not easy in the arms, not easy in the head.

One morning, I couldn’t stop yawning until tears started pooling and my tongue was in so much pain from being bitten, to make me stay awake. Don’t get me wrong. I love literature and my favourite books are all the classics- unabridged edition. Unfortunately, wee hours of morning and literature class just don’t go together. They are a mismatched of good stuff.

And so, this poem came about as a result of that…

ANOTHER cold morning feeling sleepy in class,

I strained myself from yawning, but I don’t think my abstinence will last.

THE look of boredom is clear as she’s pacing the floor,

But hey, she’s a lecturer, nobody’s stopping her walking out the door!

PERHAPS she’s hoping that she’s not here, looking at our deadpan faces,

Pondering out loud “Well, well my dears…you’re really one of the worst cases”.

AT least she’s sensitive to notice, I felt elated when she did,

For one thing that displease me, a person who is a hypocrite.

“IS there a cure for a sleepyhead, whose nodding comes regardless the hour,

Wishing that she’s still in bed even when seeing her lecturer turns sour?”

“YOU listen here my dear ladies,” cried the lecturer with some malice,

“There is a remedy for this disease- go to bed early that’s what it is!”

OUCH! Madam, you hit the bull’s eye just what I expected from an old wise guy,

Well, do wait for my reply- as for now, dreams are shadowing my eyes…


Aiza@Life is Such


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