More Poetry

This is what happens when I go to math class in the evening with a lack of sleep.

Math Class

Numbers and letters swirl,

Across the board they spread. 

Teacher speaks words I cannot comprehend.

My head dips, my paper moves.

I can't think, 

A great fog covers my head.

And my mortal form demands sustenance.

My mouth opens wide in a yawn.

A spaceship, a sword and a coffee

Pop in amidst the numbers.

Click my phone, find the time,

Another 45 minutes to go.

I wish I had my calculator,

I love my teacher's markers.

Only four minutes have gone by, 

Which rhymes with five.

Peas and pods and variables

None have anything to do with me.

I have the TARDIS on my phone!

It's 5:08, time is running slow.

Late to bed, early to rise, 

Definitely does not not make a man wise.

Papers, words and grammar all in one night.

Sleep? It's overrated.

So. More poetry. I was thinking I might dedicate one day to poetry and write a poem once a week. Because, surprisingly, I'm finding myself enjoying this. Good idea? Bad idea? Let me know what you think!

Until I've had sleep, 

Robin