A Simple Matter Poem 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 frustrations 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 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 hope 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

(copyright 1993-2019)