Yawns of my pre-lazy-sent

Wants of a bored heart

Make me look away

O this boring, lethargic 

Caricature of a face

She goes on, 

Her PhD a decree 

To command & to subjugate

Many minds that wish to break free

This prison cell 

Of self-assumed knowledge

Passed around in

Entitlement, less interest

If hands-on be the goal

Then why fit us 

Like puppets 

in uncomfortable chairs

Chatting, half-listening 

A middle ground for 

all that shouldn’t be

I’m not learning

Then why 

be so intent on pretending?