Filled with pain and panic,
The clock ticks tirelessly toward
My inquisition of intelligence,
Judged by no judge,
Verdict by no jury,
Words on a page, circles on a sheet,
All hold me confined
To an 8 x 11 feat,
What can they tell?
What will they see?
Through the words THEY choose for me,
All tell them nothing about me.
I am far more than an evaluation,
I am worth more than that sheet,
Look and listen ,
See me.
I am filled with hope and purpose,
I never accept defeat,
I am a writer with far more to say,
Than the test answers on that sheet.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.09 seconds at 3:37am on Nov 11, 2024 via server WEBX2.