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Ketchup
Knuckles gripping white on the pencil,
Shaking back and forth like washing lentils.
What if I’ll never understand this enough,
And then I’ll never be able to pass this one.
The teacher speaks but I only hear the AC,
Everyone else is getting this except me.
Nodding while they take notes I haven’t started,
I spend my time in becoming an artist.
Heat rises to my face I can’t answer this question,
Shaking their heads because it should be easy, resentment.
This class is not my strong suit and I know it,
But my grades are falling and I openly show it.
My parents are telling me I’m failing the future,
Disappointment lasting longer than yard stick ruler.
But I’m gone from school for all the appointments I hit,
It’s not my fault for all these days that I miss.
I’ll never catch up and it’s no surprise,
I hate school let me sleep until I die.



© Waiteing