Poetry About Online Class Novels & Stories

“If you think about sending this to your friends in the class who are not here, this password will be changed in fifteen minutes.” I chuckled and signed in to take the quiz. I did take a moment to relish the feeling of being in this classroom without the asshole sitting next to me and either snoring, or muttering vile remarks. I was able to concentrate easier, and the quiz wasn’t terribly difficult. There were three questions: What was the last myth we discussed in class? How does it help you understand our kind better? What was your favorite part about spring break?

It felt like ice was clutching my legs as I stared ahead at the teacher who introduced himself to us and the course of Introduction to Poetry. The world was enclosing within me as I saw the number of children sitting in front of me, and I was enclosing within them. My grip tightened around my hand as I scribbled useless stuff at the back of my notebook. Nothing helped. He asked us to introduce ourselves, and one by one everyone started giving their introduction. I counted the number of children till my turn, repeated the lines of my introduction in my head. I could do this. I had to do this.

“I miss it too. But I don’t think it’s as far away as it feels right now.” “How are the online classes?” she asks. “Genuinely terrible,” I say with a huff. “I understand roughly forty percent of what is happening, and that forty percent is the part I already knew.” I close the sketchbook. “I don’t want to get used to them. I want to go back to actual school and see actual people and exist in a physical space with other humans.” “Remember what I always say, sweetheart,” she says while settling into the bed. “Every action has a reaction.”

I even ignored Maya’s four missed calls and Clara’s text that just said, “Stay strong.” This wasn’t my first heartbreak. But this one… this one had claws. It was my first day back in my art and poetry class, and all I wanted was to slide into the back, sketch in peace, maybe even let my mind drift off into something softer than reality. I wasn’t going to think about Leo. I wasn’t going to think about Camille. I wasn’t going to let my name trending on campus socials get to me. Except for the moment I walked into class, I felt it. The shift in the air. Like the way birds go quiet before a storm.

I neglect my online class, my thoughts on what the doctor said. How would I do my online class and talk to my friends after what I heard from the doctors? I closed my laptop, unable to do my short quiz of the day. I feel unmotivated and hopeless. I stare at my phone, contemplating if I should call my friends or just open the social media to vent and post all my anger to make me feel better.

Her words captured the essence of perseverance and the unexpected paths life can take. Maris whispered poems into the “Letters That Waited” notebook like prayers to be answered slowly, each line a delicate weave of hope and introspection. One student stood by the reply zine, tears in her eyes, then left behind a new line: “You made grief feel less like exile and more like invitation.” Her words were a poignant reminder of the studio’s transformative power, turning pain into a shared experience and a catalyst for healing.

I was supposed to fill the form and submit it immediately but I had spent more than a week perambulating. I heaved a sigh as we drove into Crescent High. I got down and said bye-bye to the driver. When I got to the class, only three of my classmates were in class. I sat on my seat and brought out the form. It was neatly folded between my Mathematics textbook. I opened it and peered at the words again Music or Virtual Arts. I heaved a sigh. Maybe this is when I finally face my demons. What demons? We all have demons, don't we?

I could've gone into town during the week and signed up for school with my new name and falsified transcripts, but the thought of sitting in a classroom all day didn't appeal. So, I put school on hold for a while until I decided to sign up for online classes once the internet was up and running. I thought Gabriel every day, and when I didn't think of him, he invaded my dreams to the point that I'd sometimes wake up in such pain it was hard to escape.

I was surfing the internet when I discovered that one could actually have college classes online. Excited about this, I immediately registered for my course online, which means I have to be on my phone for four hours every day, and if I successfully achieve that, then I am a full college student just as every girl or boy who attends classes physically.

"It's not goodbye, it's seen you later..." "But you're leaving," one of the girls said. "But with what I'm going to give you, we'll have good online classes," I pointed out. "I'll be able to see you, and we'll continue with the lessons, but they won't be in person." "Are we going to work like during the pandemic?"