Midterms

A week of chaos,
A flurry of commotion,
Like the snow outside my window.
Falling down, gently down,
Until it reaches the ground.
It hits rock bottom,
It's got nowhere to go.
Entering the starch white room,
Feeling trapped,
No way back,
The bars are coming down over me.
Sitting in the chair,
I rock back and forth,
My mind aching,
My breath short and quick.
Pencil scratching on the surface of a dead tree.
Pages and pages of questions,
"What is the significance of the Muse in the Odyssey?"
Clock ticking,
My nose itching.
A fly buzzing,
Time goes by.
Trying to keep up those standards,
The pressure is like that of a hot balloon,
About to explode.
No way back,
Like the snow on the ground,
It cannot drift down any farther.
The bell rings,
My hand hurts,
I watch the students file out,
As the world goes blank.
I've failed this,
I've aced that.
What's the point?
Statisfaction,
Is it guaranteed?
- glazwrites's blog
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