Exams are here, all in stress
We try to focus and do our best.
Our mind is saying we know the work.
I read the first Question and go berserk.
The time is running out each time our pencil drops.
We all know what coming when the time stops.
The teacher smiles and rushes down each isle.
On his desk my exam is in that pile.
As he returns it back I can’t bear to look.
I open my eyes down my head I shook.
Everyone’s moans are heard around the classroom.
As we get home mum asks for the mark we hand it over and run to the bathroom.
The mother shouts with anger in her voice.
It’s time to get she count up to 3 I get out and a whip I see that was a bad choice.