Your Smile

I sit at a hexagonal table with five of my classmates,
Bored to tears as the lecture drones on.
Hands holding up my head,
But nothing helps my eyelids,
and I drift...

I yawn and wipe away a tear,
I lean back in my chair,
Stretching, hoping for energy,
from somewhere--anywhere.
Nothing.

I glance around the lifeless room,
The professor, happy in her own world.
The constant question-asker, asking questions.
And you, looking back at me.
You crack a smile,
and my smile magically appears.