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.
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