Poetry Practice: School Sleep

In the garden of knowledge, where the sun sets low,

Weary petals droop as gentle breezes blow.

The fountain of learning, its waters run dry,

A quiet hum of tiredness, a soft sigh. 

The clock ticks slow, a lullaby of time,

In the dance of exhaustion, a subtle mime.

But in the quiet of evening's gentle embrace,

I find solace in rest, a peaceful place.