I am in class again, and like the good student I am,
The paper comes out and I begin to write.
Let's write those notes, write that response question,
Remember that fact, jot down that caption.
But no, that's not the use I make of my paper.

Instead, I write about that girl to the right,
My neighbor's neighbor, she's the new flavor.

The drone goes on from that lady in the front.
I sit in the back and try to block out
All that will move my thoughts from her.

Not the wisest use of time, but its the one I prefer.
I have to use it wisely and see her when I can,
Because when the weekend comes, for days on end,
Out of my life she's gone, and all I've got is written in poem.