Prof. Don Hill

Mon, 11/14/2016 - 00:11 -- omgjars

I am taking a test, but I don't know what the subject is about. I didn't ask to take this test.
I flip to the first page. The questions are simple, but I cannot answer them.
I am taking a test, and there are many questions about trees and rocks.
I am a rock. The questions are so simple, but I cannot answer them.
I look up into the eyes of my professor.
I know that if I do not pass this test, I will not _______.
And that just cannot happen.
I stare longer at my professor; hoping He sees my helpless eyes.
Possibly, He could give me a hint, or maybe even all the answers!
He sees me, but He does not acknowledge me. 
Yet, He talks, as if it were to me; like He knew what answers I had wrong.
"Number 1 is D. Number 2 is E. Number 3 is A. Number 4 is D...."
I do not question Him. 
I give thanks to Him, for He is good.


I got an F.

This poem is about: 
My country


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