The Monotonous Life of the Zombie

When you have homework
There’s no time for leisure.
Teacher’s expect you to complete every bit.
Only the product, never the kid.
Which is better-
an empty page or an empty head? Huh.
The child refuses sleep,
The scritch of a pencil, lamp flickering on the desk
His brain dissolving into a melting mess.
And they’re surprised the next class
When they ask a simple question
And the students blink, not knowing what the teacher asked?
Robot-like arms handing in papers
Students start to deteriorate as the hour gets later.
Now, what happens as a result of these years,
May evoke, in the kindest of hearts, tears.
The student gets older,
And is now a man.
Teacher reaches out, shakes his hand.
He, his eyes misty and glazed over
Remembers these days of high school horrors.