The light stains my eyelids a

lurid pink.

I fumble with the

Pen and paper

That lay on my desk.

The others are still sleeping,

The sun is yet to rise,

And I shiver in the cold.

The room looks too large without

The others.

I fidget in my seat,

Unable to sit still.

The paper stares at me

Marred by my shaky writing.

The timer dings announcing my time is up,

And I hand in a paper half blank, half gibberish,

Dripping with sweat.

So much for my future.


One thought on “Nervous”

  1. This is a masterpiece! When I was 15, I was never able to write something as beautiful as this…
    It’s wonderful to see a piece of writing that so perfectly describes a familiar activity in such eloquent wording.

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