Exam

Outside the exam room we wait.
Nervous chatter occupies time,
Which shields the green apprehension
Painted beneath certain faces.
Topics are dressed in scant details;
The unsure worry even more.

Let into the writing chamber
Once preparations are fulfilled,
I find the assigned desk and sit,
Eager to have this exam done,
To survive this thorny event.

Supervised by a smug agent
With insect eyes and a clock head,
Reading of the paper begins.
Questions are worded carefully,
Like they spewed from a crafty bitch
Expert in the art of sarcasm,
Who tries to expose what’s naive;
Such success goes against knowledge
That I have and must now reveal.

Once allowed to write, it pours out,
A continuous stream of ink
Disrupted by pauses for air.
Some thoughts become stuck in the swamp,
Ideas sucked down into the mud
Of a confused, frustrated brain,
Will struggle to surface intact,
And dissolve in a choking scream.

The response to a slick question
Must be articulately formed
For marks of the highest reward;
If details are a murky blur
A pass mark can be just achieved
(Those who mark these sloppy pieces
Have the unsavoury task
Of scraping away the shit
To find the answer’s potential);
But an indefinite answer
Will leave the score deeply depressed.

I finish this spiteful exam,
A sample of my abilities
(As thorough as my brain could stand),
Escape the tight room’s weary air,
Partake in amusements with friends,
Forget a likely disaster.