No matter what the teacher asks I am always up to my task As I am a backbencher I am always on a venture Teachers have come and gone Lying on the back benches I always yawn The last bench is the best place to sleep But when exams come I always weep On my sweet bench, come the sweetest dreams But they soon end when the teacher screams “Stand up and leave the class”, the teacher shouts Making an end to all my sleepy bouts Looking at all this, sometimes I try to deem Sitting in front I shall become the nation’s cream But after all I love this sorrowful trench As I write this poem, sitting on the last bench
Posted on: Mon, 30 Sep 2013 20:27:42 +0000
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