The test day had arrived, and outside I stood,

Fingers quaking heart pounding feet tapping,

A rhythmic motion,

Monotonous, still unsteady,

Would my pencil, for the first time, fail me?

 

Could the paper withstand such an earthquake?

The room trembled, and as I let out a cry,

Seemingly no one else felt the terror.

Sitting now, the seat hard

As a rock, with a death grip, but despite this,

 

I wrote, and wrote, the letters curled around one another,

A graceful dance, curiously intertwined,

as if one note was dropped,

The glass would shatter and break, still,

Scribbling furiously. There was no time to

 

Look back.

Tick tick tick tick no pause monotony the clock

And then, time was up, as if no time had

Passed at all, and I was thoroughly proud,

But would if be sufficient?

 

Nope.

So Apparently,

Lemons are a metaphor for life,

And color is a metaphor for emotion?

Clearly I missed whatever was to be got.

 

As far as I know, there always just…

One right answer?

The earthquake inside me is about to release,

And I can’t take it anymore, why am I always so wrong!

But time marches on well into those warm summer days

 

And I’ve forgotten until...

Fingers quaking heart pounding feet tapping,

Results are here, months later finally time

Tick tick tick tick no pause monotony the clock

Had I passed, failed?

 

10:00.

The screen pops up and slowly,

CLICK and it pops up

“Congratulations! You have received your diploma.”

What is in it next for me?

 

That, my friend, is yet to be determined.

And maybe someday, that earthquake will release,

And my walls may fall,

But my pencil stands as resolute,

Paper a stark brick wall. But maybe, not so plain after all?