She’s left a weight on a chair,
All joints and flesh on her body hang loosely,
Yet, she cannot deny her thighs are twisting below her.
It is not over when everyone is clapping,
She must harden up when she must
And give up all hopes when she must.
This is do or die
She mustn’t let anything touch her
She cannot deny the fact that,
Her teachers’ responsibilities are hanging on her chest wide placard
Making her sink deeper into the chair, breathless,
Her crystal clear tinted spectacles reflected no black ink,
Her face was eaten by proposition filled monsters,
Her red necktie is tied to her kindergarten smart reader,
And her vest absorbed all the light shining from all her other school friends.
Her mother pulled her pony tail so tight her back is straight even when she sinks
into the,
Nationally desired hot musical chair.
Question is,
Is she still satisfied when her spelling turn is really all over?
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