A SIMPLE MATTER

 A SIMPLE MATTER

By Robert John Meehan

 My pencil is on the floor

Just what am I to do

I'll not get it with my feet

As the other children do

The test has already started

I'm in danger of falling behind

If only a fellow student

Would return it in ample time

My palms are now sweating

My frustration's beginning to show

No talking is permitted

Thus my pencil lies below

If my eyes were to wander

For a helping hand to find

Would my teacher be believing

Or would questions of cheating be defined

As I squirm anxiously in my seat

There's sweat forming on my brow

I wantingly glance beneath me

Believing I'll  retrieve it yet somehow

A commotion I could make

But others I would distract

Or an illness I could fake

With a slim chance the test retake

I glance up at the clock

With feelings of dismal shock

Wishing in my predicament

My teacher soon takes stock

I hesitatingly raise my hand

As a tear trickles down my cheek

Hoping and praying all along

That my teacher's eyes and mine do meet

But much to my dismay

She's still  looking another way

With hopes of finishing diminishing

I'll need find yet another way

I swallow a gulp of air

In hopes of clearing my throat

In need of my teacher's attention

To questions with answers yet unwrote

In fear of promoting a commotion

I begrudgingly bury my head

Any hopes of a successful solution

Are lost in my feelings of dread

With a tap on my shoulder from behind me

And a tug on my chair's brake release

My teacher's whispering voice reminds me

My wheelchair's brake to release 

With a smile and a nod to assure me

To put my worst expectations to rest

My teacher returns me my pencil

And on I continue my test  

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