A race to victory on paper.
Booklets flung by the exam attendant,
Irrelevant to them,
But life and death to us;
The new achievers.
Some go about it,
Two millimeters form the paper,
As though to see the details
The others may have missed.
To smell the heavy intoxicating ink
And pink paper.
To whisper, to try and wrangle more marks
From the mythical beast of “The Examiner”.
They are all powerful, yet the only success
Is when we pretend they are ignorant.
Others sit back in their chairs,
But now, if you really look;
Their hands are speeding,
Trying to fool you.
The facade of knowledge.
They're as terrified as you.
Do not forget those who claim all year,
They don't care, they'll get the points anyway.
Choose a year out instead?
Scoff, throw the paper to one side;
Two minutes later,
The horror registers,
For they truly know nothing at all.
Indeed there are some,
Who write to the bell,
Some who still don't know their timing.
The couldn't care less
And the panic attacks.
All around the stereotypes,
That we become at exam time.
And so, I sit amongst you all.
They do their thing,
I do mine.