Who I Am

 

I love little more
than being who I am,
but I’ve been ashamed,
by failing your exam.

I chose multiple choices,
and answered false and true,
but none of me was in it
when I gave it back to you.

I guess I thought it proper
to astutely play my role,
and I stood there, dumb,
as the red pen marked the whole.

If I’d been thinking clearly,
and if I’d been brave enough,
I would have drawn across the page
all kinds of brilliant stuff.

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