A3, My Class

A3, My Class

In A3, the colours shine,
Different races, hearts align.
We learn, we fight, we chase the best,
A restless class that never rests.

They see my scores, they watch me climb,
First in exams, time after time.
But behind the smiles, I feel the game,
Predators waiting, hiding blame.

They take my words, they take my light,
Use my knowledge, but not my might.
Accusing others, finding flaws,
Sharp as knives with hidden claws.

Yet still, my heart, it longs to stay,
To be their friend in every way.
For though they think I do not see,
I know their truth from A to Z.

And in the crowd, I’m not alone,
Some true friends stand, they make it known.
Through every test, through storm or cheer,
Their quiet support is always near.

So A3, both fierce and kind,
A class of battles, heart and mind.
I’ll walk this path, both strong and true,
Hoping for friends—real, not just few.