School Poem (last class of the week)

I sat down in math class.
I moaned and groaned with the class
as Mrs. P passed out the test.
The formulas,
she scribbled on the board.
I stared at the test.
My eyes began to close...
No, no. I couldn't sleep now,
I couldn't risk getting an F.
But it was just so quiet,
except for the scratching
of pencils on paper,
and the occasional whirr of the sharpener.
Oh, and there was the soft tapping
of calculator buttons.
The classroom smelled of many things:
pencil shavings, sweat, markers,
and some kid's strong cologne,
mixed with the scents the warm breeze blew in:
crisp almost-summer air,
the sweetness of flowers,
and all those kinds of things.
I was hungry, too,
and the chewing gum didn't help:
It actually made me hungrier.
I leaned my head on my hand as I stared at the test,
but not for long:
The sweat and heat made it
sticky and uncomfortable.
I tapped my pencil impatiently on my desk,
occasionally robotically scribbling the answers,
as we had learned to do them.
The clock went tick-tock-tick;
a kid in the back began to snore.
Mrs. P ignored him;
it was his fault that he let the weather get to him.
It didn't help that my desk
was right next to the window.
It only distracted me more.
Just a few more questions...
Ah, the test was done!
I quickly handed it in
and returned to my desk.
I laid my head down.
The warm sunshine shone on me,
warming the back of my neck.
Before I knew, I was asleep.
I dreamed of the awesome weekend I would have.
A three-day weekend...
what could be better?
I imagined video games, friends,
movies, walks in the park...
BIIIIIIIING!
The bell!
Quick!
Grab your stuff!
And everyone dashed to the door,
and I was caught in the rush.
Time for the weekend!