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.