To Small to Think

I was to young to understand

Yet somehow I knew

Sitting at my desk in a cold classroom in the hot month of June

The teacher with her red orthopedic shoes gave us that Brown paper to fold, I knew I was doom

It was a arithmetic test which I didn’t know yet what “1 + 1” meant

My hands were sweating

Stomach in knots

I cried inside

The only one with an unfinished test

I wanted to run and never stop

Yet the finish was here

I had to stop, I was the incomplete and the rest were the pencils sharp

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