The Exam

The Exam Holding a pen sweat running down my cheeks The piece of paper in front of me looking like hieroglyphs Stressed by my empty mind I hear whispers behind Time running out I look at the girl sitting next to me Under the illusion that she's in control of her life Religion tells us that that late nights and books cant change what was meant to be But she looks different from the little girl I saw four years back She's now a lady soldier trying to survive in a male world Thirty minutes left says a guy in a black suit With his masters degree acting like he never sat in the same seat Too pompous to see that we are all historians Following the whiteman's feet, reading books written by Indians I would rather be a slave and be sold for a drink Than be a free-man and be told what to think What good is a piece of paper in a world where opportunity is not guaranteed anymore? In a world where billionaires are college drop-outs The few that decided to break their shells and think differently A normal education is for normal men I'm not lazy but I prefer different types of work