In the morning, when the alarm clock rings,
We stumble to class with sleep in our eyes, it stings.
The teacher starts talking, but our minds are in a haze,
Trying to stay awake, counting down the minutes and days.
The sun peeps through the window, casting a sleepy glow,
As we struggle to comprehend what the teacher wants to know.
Our pen fall from our hands, as if they have a mind,
Morning classes are a challenge, a battle of the tired kind.
The clock seems to tick slower, the minute drag on,
As we fight the urge to yawn and let out a big loud groan.
So, here's to morning classes, a test of our resilience,
Where we fight the sleepiness with laughter and brilliance.
Though we may struggle to keep our eyes open wide,
We'll survive the morning class, with humor as our guide.
(Angels' Voice, Vol. 11)
Supriya Malla Thakuri
Class-10, H2