Glowering at the bleached sheet of paper,then to the clock

I had 5 minutes to turn my thoughts to words in a poetic way

My english teacher ordered we all write a poem from the heart

I had already spent my other 50 minutes wondering why I was so emotionless

Am I really so dispassionate,apathetic, and indifferent that I couldn’t write a poem

Consumed by this realization, I decided to embrace it

I wrote on the basis of how calm and collected I was and how it was a benefit

People might think it to be unnatural but there is somethings I handle well compared to others

With 4 minutes left I grabbed my pencil to finally compose my poem

I know how to (not) handle rough times

I will never embarrass myself

I won’t cry in front of others

I won’t feel like you do

3 minutes left

Some sweat had accumulated on my cupids bow; maybe from concentration

All the other students were getting up to turn in their emotional pieces

I had just got started yet all I wanted to do was finish

Have I even lived yet?

Never experiencing great joy or love was a truth for me

Is it even possible to clasp onto my thick skin

The clock shows that there is only 2 minutes left for me to formulate

The bells rings anyway, the clock was wrong,everyone leaves the room

From the corner of my eyes the teacher  gets up and puts her hands on her hips

I open my mouth to speak ...