Dear Michael Gove Poem by Rebekah Bookless

Pens at the ready, eyes alert,
Every button done up one my too white shirt.
Every sense, every nerve, every cell, every part
of my overtired body waits for the ‘you may start'

With every turn of the page my heart doubles pace.
Every tick of the clock turns this into a race.
Every unknown answer makes the time go faster,
with facts merely littering the daunting blank space.

With every page showering questions that make me stall;
With all the pages of revision that my brain can't recall;
With all the hours I spent, all this stress I can't vent
I feel panic bubbling, I feel pathetically small.

The confident start that leaves me hesitating
led to sleepless nights and hyperventilating.
The way I'm hell bent on every 5 per cent,
because an A without a star would be devastating.

The more important the exam, the worse that I do
The more that's at stake, the more that I stew.
But you think that I'd do best, with one massive test?
Michael Gove, keep your thoughts to yourself
Thank you.