Face the class
your grade is at stake
your frail hands sh-sh-sh-shake
the lump in the throat sinking fast
As those faces linger with lambaste
your quivering lips slowly fade
Your eyes swell as tears cascade
the joints in the knee wobble abashed
The pitch in the voice assertively slashed
your fidgety feet itching to evade
in front of this masquerade
They say, as they silently impeach
no need to worry it's just a speech
Piece of cake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem