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Book 14 Page 25
Make the grade
Iím sitting in this exam room straining and racking my brains.
Thinking, thinking! desperately; ďO I hope I make the grade.Ē
Got a bunch of trick questions, their testing my IQ.
"Someone has to fail" they say and to be frank with you, itís best not be me / but you.
Now who was the first president? O I really really donít care!
Thinking thinking desperately, pulling out me hair.
For Iím sitting in this exam chair feeling in a dream,
while society works out the dumb ones from the intellectual cream.
Got to compete with my fellow students, itís me or someone else.
And for sure if I donít know the answers, those examiners ainít ganna help.
I think; ďIíll put a little cross in this square, yep I think heís the right man.Ē
Tests are all about how much you can cram.
I think itís him because I stayed up late last night cramming my head deep in books.
But hell I wish now I could just sneak me now another look.
Only ten more minutes to go, it looks like Iím ganna have to fake it.
Thatís what you do sometimes in exams and then you, hope like hell that you make it.
And if I donít, well itís off to the dole for me,
and I wonít be one of those rich kids making all the money.
And If I pass, well itís university and a career and success.
Thatís what itís really all about
and why Iím sitting here doing this God dame bloody test.
© Written by Dominic John Gill www.poetry.net.au email@example.com 9/3/00