I found this old notebook in my drawer, and flipped it open.
There was a poem I had written when I was in JC2, during GP class.
It's plainly titled 'I Feel... (during GP)"
Maggots squirm in my brain.
Am I in a grave?
I am dead.
Six feet underground this muck of knowledge.
Very dead.
This bright yet menacing afternoon,
Stuck in a casket they call a classroom.
Flies around my body the words buzz,
The stench of assignments, oh don't make me start!
Ms Tan dearest, have a heart,
And let us off before the hour's up.
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