Poesy Fragments

#9 MATHS

One two and three, numbers slide down the line,

Four and five, never suits the rhyme.

Sixth time in a week, I stare at the wall blank,

Wondering what the seven stars has to say.

Pushing and pulling, the kids run down the eighth lane,

As the clock strikes nine, loud screams ring,

While the violent winds swings around,

Shadows emerge beneath my cushiony beds,

Abducting me to the tenth dimension,

And urging me to solve the unsolved mission,

Loaded with theorems and matrices.