COMS 103; a poem

If you could see me slumping here
then you could plainly see
that I am not a big fan of
the class COMS 103.
It’s Public Speaking, it’s12-2
it’s up in Lasher Hall.
Inform, convince, deliver, and persuade;
I just can’t take it all.
I guess the Prof is nice enough,
my classmates all seem cool.
The subject matter’s just so rough; so
I fall asleep and drool.
I dream of ponies, candy, toys,
of unicorns and rainbows.
I dream of that guy from the infomercials
who tries to sell me Tae-Bo.
I’m off in my own little world,
but that fantasy’s soon gone,
for the Prof drones on and on and on
and on and on and on.
The next assignment has been posted,
it’s worth 55.
Less than 2 weeks to be completed?
I’d better act alive!
12 days I’ve toiled, 12 nights I’ve worked,
I can’t take anymore.
The end is near, I’m almost done;
this is all such a bore.
It’s done! It’s in! I can do no more!
I am so relieved.
I volunteer to go first;
this will be easier than first believed
I deliver well, I garner applause.
I sit back down with out a peep.
I find that a wry smile crawls across my face,
for now I can go back to sleep…