Poetry About Online Class Novels & Stories

All I can do is go through the motions and try to make it through another day. I scan the room and take in the paralyzed state of my classmates. They appear to be lifeless, trapped within their own minds. I can't help but wonder if online classes are on the horizon. If that happens, there won't be a reason for me to stay in London. I am desperate to blow off some steam. It’s like an itch. First it was just under my skin, now it's eating me up inside, and no matter how much I claw at it, it doesn’t go away.

Sunny Friday came, and they stopped our class today during the lesson. Our professor who was teaching a while ago said they would have their emergency meeting. I think it is also because of what has been happening in our surroundings lately. We are done copying the lesson on the board and are just waiting for our professor to return. "Do you think they will tell us to stay home for now?" I asked Shiela. Shiela nodded to my statement and said, "It can be. We can also have online classes if needed." she replied.

Rowland teased. "I would love that, also, you know you can actually attend your classes online? So you aren't far behind if you aren't able to attend the physical classes, like I have a schedule, and I attend classes thrice a week, and do the rest online" I revealed to him. "Hmm, you are a genius but I have to run now, catch you later" Rowland added and before I could reply he was off. A smile crept its way to my face watching Rowland run off, he had this warm personality that made me comfortable with him.

For the rest of the period, we talked here and there, when we had to ask each other something related to the class. Towards the end of the class our teacher said, “So students, this is all for today. Now I’m asking you all to make an assignment on the next chapter with your seat partner, it is a poem and I want both of you to write whatever you understand because there can be the infinite meaning of a single poem”

I felt bad, I would text him back later. I had two from an unknown number. The first one said, “I’m sorry.” The second one said “I miss you already.” Butterflies started to flutter in my stomach. It was him, I could feel it but I couldn’t respond, although I wanted to. All the feelings came back; and I was doing so well. I read them about six more times as I moved through the rest of my day. I got all my stuff together for this online class. I needed a distraction, and this was perfect. I turned my music on and grabbed my apron. We were making Chicken Marsala. I poured

“Oh, this is nothing,’’ I whispered to myself before walking off to the opposite direction happily, one unhappy moment can not undo and outweigh all the good time and memories that we had created together, that was just impossible. The bell rung and I rushed off to English class, the teacher asked everyone to write a poem down as she went round and I couldn’t seize the moment better, this was my chance to outshine everyone. Ye god of beauty, Ooh Israelite god lost in earth Ye is full of walking metaphors and perfections A breath oozes love and makes beautiful flowers to blush Like a virgin caught in a midnight dance with bachelors Thou eyes glow like molten lave and hot coals, healing broken

It read: “Dear Vega, Thank you for your email. I’m sorry to hear about your father’s health. You have my approval to attend my classes online for the rest of the semester. I wish your father a successful surgery and a speedy recovery. Take care and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need any assistance. Kind regards, Dr. Loriel Campbell.” As I slowly read through the message, a wide smile formed on my face. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed as I leaned away, my hands still on my spacebar. “Yes! Thank you Mrs. Campbell. You’re my favorite lecturer!” I muttered loudly like she could actually hear me. But I was too excited to even care. This meant I could attend her classes online without any consequenc

The familiar chatter and laughter helped to ease her stress and recharge her for the rest of the day. As the afternoon sun beat down on the campus grounds, Hazel made her way to her last class – Literature 204: Modern Poetry. She loved this class, where she could immerse herself in the beauty of words and emotions. The discussion on Sylvia Plath's poetry sparked a lively debate among the students, and Hazel found herself lost in the world of metaphors and symbolism.

He answered. "Thank you very much." I wrote on the notepad. "I'm happy to help." He smiled and I waved at him and left the class to go to my next class. Now, I have to write a poem about anything and submit it tomorrow. I can't even write poems, how should I go about this then? I have always been weak in that area. I wish even more that Lucien was around. He is the one that took poetry class from the starting of the academy, I only started taking it this month.

I know she's around and I've been avoiding her for the past two days. Things had been quiet for the past two days, maybe it was because I was always in my room. Thanks to the excursions of my classmates, classes have been online but that privilege will soon end because the excursions end in two weeks and I'll have to start attending lectures. I'm super excited and also nervous.