White

I sit here, waiting for a thought to help me A blank mind, a blank sheet of paper I firmly grip a long pencil, squeezing it tightly, Silently hoping and praying that I make it out alive Suddenly, I begin to remember the answer, But as soon as I entertain the thought, It slips away like a snake Slithering out of my mind Realizing that I am on my last minutes I take in a deep breath and close my eyes Then, I exhale Finally hearing the ring of a bell I arise and hand my sheet to a silhouette, Walking past me like a ghost My face left as pale as the white sheet I had, Sweat beading my forehead while I exit the room, Leaving behind my anxiety I start to chuckle, as my head is filled with the answers I needed, Too late did it come to me.