The nib sprints across the smooth white surface
Aching limbs strain to keep a pace
Eyes strain againgst the headache
Ticking reviberates off the walls whistling me to hurry
seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours
Mind bores for something else
Memories blur like a moving train
Bringing wrong images and words
Chairs scraping as others around me leave
Hand scratching further now
driving for more words
clocks ticking even louder as it runs out
hours becoming minutes, minutes into seconds
Pressure pulls me into a furious drive
killing ink for words
sweat pouring as i work full speed
demanding myself to remember facts
voices shout out
time is up
The exam is over
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ugh I hate thinkin about it but thanks anyway for helpin me to relive it lol thanks and remember. Spread Yourself! ! ! !