In your little class, I am but a little busy bee
Who understands nothing and nothing is what I see
The work is assigned like soilders to a barrack
But we look down and merely grin and bear it
Scribbling answers is our basic creed
Learning nothing but doing everything, as a busy worker bee
I learn nothing. I only write.
No matter how boring. No matter how trite.
You seem to care less than I do, as a busy little worker bee
After you assign, you retire to your desk barely even looking at me.
I wish I knew. I wish I could.
I wish I could care. I wish I should.
But busy little worker bees only want the pass
To move on and deliver themselves from their class
I beg of you to leave me bee
I entreat you to inspire me
The busy work leaves me pained with mental hunger
I can't be a busy bee no longer.