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
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