Ode #7: In the creative writing competition

I was standing there confused,

As the room seemed unwelcoming to a stranger who didn’t look profuse.

Eye-blinding light that reflected from somewhere..

For what seemed like a picture of a mare.

My eyes drifted to the metal desk,

Which was as lonely and empty as me.

My hands seemed desperate to touch the mare,

That was now a few inches closer than the distance i could stop to care.

Given a sheet of paper and a pen of ink blue,

“What should I write about?” I had no clue.

Should I throw the sheet away?

In a still position it lay.

My palm moving forward to put my brain’s thought,

On the beautiful white sheet, and the words it caught.

The teacher could spot the places my eyes roam,

But couldn’t what my brain did foam.

And before I could blink was given a book,

Before the audience who never knew how I looked….

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