I sit at a wooden desk in the darkness surrounding me
Shadowy faces circle my empty piece of paper and discarded pencil
Dust from the ceiling falls into my eyes,
And although I should be blinded, I can see more clearly now.
Dad sitting in the garden helping me with my spelling by playing games of Countdown,
Mum encouraging me with confidence to get through tough, painful, tearful days,
Pressure inside my blood, building, up, up, up.
But whatever grade I may get,
I realise, I have tried.
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