Textual doodle

I wrote this during an exceptionally boring torturous ordeal called a 'class'. Got passed around the class and all of us had a tough time keeping a straight face.
Boredom – a poem
Sitting in a crowd
Not hearing a single word
My mind remains blank
I don’t need to take this crap
There are better things I can do
Like...
Fly over the mountains
Dive into the sea
Dance in the rain
Roll on the grass
My imagination is running wild
This class seems so tame
I wish I could open the door
Run off to a better place
And never come back
To this class.
Everyone else feels the same as I do
Yet we are prisoners in a
Cell with an unlocked door
My bum is glued to my chair
I wish there was a fire alarm
That could clang and
We would all run out and hide
For three whole days
Until ‘she’ leaves
She is digging her nose
Talking some gibberish
Whatever she is saying,
I know it is not English
Worse than Greek or Latin
Should I pull out my hair?
Going out of my mind
Want to scream so loud
The wind is howling
The telephone is ringing in the opposite room
The world is protesting with us
Raise your voice
Lift your bum
Run Out. Rush out. Of this class. The torture has to end. Very soon. Really soon. Like NOW!!!
- A tortured student
Class I – 08/08/08