A book begs to be read
Lying on a table that is dead
A pair of eyes wandered through the walls
Then through the windows, ceilings and floors.
The calculator is waiting to be touched
Exercises and problems are worrying much
The pen stints, its not in the mood
It’ll walk later when it already feels good.
Ex-apple of the eyes of my Master
Passed by but it didn’t bother
A hand grabbed an old bookmarker
And thrown back to place sooner.
Words knockin’ on both ears
Never welcomed, never heard
Addressed by the man in front
With reading glasses, a respected one.
A sleepy breath came out the mouth
Patiently waiting for the bell to ring
Another one from the same sense came out
There’s the bell, what joy it brings!
