BitterSweetLife

'Twas the 'noon before freedom,
and all through the class,
not a synapse was firing,
no one was on task.

About curving and finals,
and grades from the past,
or Grinchy requirements--
no one even asked.

Notebooks were stuffed
in their backpacks with care
in the hope that real living
soon would be there.

Then class time was over,
the hour had struck,
but the teacher kept talking,
could he be such a schmuck?

And the students stood up
and charged with a shout!
They trampled the professor
on their way out...