30 day poetry challenge: day 15

Exams

I sit in the morgue-cold room,

Sweat trickling down my spine.

I hate to be all doom and gloom

But I fear I’m running out of time!

My head feels numb and my brain pounds

Like a million condemned men are fighting to get out.

My foot taps “La Macarena” upon the ground

And it’s all I can do not to scream and shout.

My breathing is ragged and heavy

And my palms shaky and sweaty

As I grasp the pen.

The woman at the desk glances at the clock

And the pounding in my head starts again

As she says: “Pick up your pens, the test starts now!”

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