The empty words that echo,

Across the classroom walls,

Run across my mind,

Fleetingly numbing fields of

thought.

 

It doesn’t click with the revolving,

Grating gears in my head.

And the blank page beneath me,

Is my life laid out before me?

 

On display for all to see,

I must prove Them wrong.

And fill the blanks with black ink –

A streaming consciousness.

 

Then the game changes

The teacher whispers with a wish

“Write yourself into words tonight,”

And the chasm in my head

Opens.

 

A small light flickers.

An idea brilliant like moonlight,

Manifests itself and I am free,

Free from this prison of potential

Failure.

 

But not yet –

They look at me,

Lifeless doubt invading their eyes.

“It can’t be done,” They say.

 

That moment,

That single moment in time,

I prove them wrong.