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 ...