What else does one do when you finish the PSATs an hour a half earlier than everyone? You sleep, normal people would sleep, but nooooooooo, I doodled and wrote poetry for an hour and a half
Sitting, wondering, staring at your face,
your hands move backwards, slowly down.
Enslaving me here until sand runs out,
taking pleasure in my pain and misery.
STOP STARING AT ME!
Your hands have stopped, why?
Just fifteen minutes more and I would've been free.
Hurry, hurry along now little hands,
when is my time up? Ring bell ring,
release me from this internal hell,
allow me my freedom now!
In a trance, you move slowly as ever,
TOO slowly, you must rush
forward in time, allow me my freedom.
Boredom sets in
insanity
I'm talking to a clock!!!
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