An Alien Stole My Pencil...!

As I returned from the middle of recess,

All sweaty and grasping for breath,

I searched for my water bottle in the mess,

 Found an empty bottle that sat their ailing.

I looked around at the bags of my friends,

Up on the chair and down on the floor,

Colours that were out of trend,

Their bottles were in three or four.

I took the one that was the warmest,

For my throat was bad to be that honest,

And it gave me a certain thrust,

It was from that someone I could trust.

The bell rung,

The time was over,

I mistakably bit my tongue,

I really couldn’t tolerate the torture.

It was maths period,

Oh, how I loved maths those days,

Now only for the so-called ill-fated,

As the urge to find ‘x’ decays.

I took out my pencil box,

Started writing with my pen,

It looked like the zerox,

Of a painting of the feet of hen.

I still managed to work somehow,

Neared the end of my assignment,

Sweat dropped from my eyebrow,

On the work that looked decent.

I finished my work,

Shot up from my chair,

Don’t know what gave that jerk,

And then I scratched my curly hair.

I had to draw a line,

At the end of each question,

So much to be Einstein,

Who wasn’t so common.

I searched for my pencil,

In and out of the box,

As my head spins in a circle,

As the teacher continues his talks.

I asked my friends if they had mine,

The pencil that I needed the most,

 As the clock ticked five minutes past nine,

I looked like I had seen a ghost.

I looked at the window,

I looked at teacher,

The clock ticked in an echo,

I could hear the sound of Beiber.

I took out the Sherlock in me,

And started to do deduction,

That’s when I realized,

I now knew what had happened.

And shouted out as my belt I fastened,

Everybody stay still,

I know what has happened,

An Alien stole my pencil.

The 1st April Guy