I believed my teacher,
For a gift, she offered
A written test, she announced
An assignment, she asked.

When the needle moves from
Ten, eleven, twelve, and one
I persisted with my eyes.
But alas, they feel sorry for being late.

I never try to remember,
The vacation with my family,
And the nuts that I begged,
From my mom’s cake.

I kept all of myself,
On my portions,
And that age-old library,
Waiting to fall at the next clock's tick tok.

No daily news is available,
External powers inhibited all.
So I don't have to waste time on world news
And weeping eyes for my fellows.

However, my teacher sank away from us.
For them to say that there is no exam,
It was easy.
More didn't ask about other works.

On our cracked notice board
The teacher then appeared.
‘In last day's Bomber,
The teacher was dead.
It was there noticed.

.    .    .