The days are the same but here at this very moment things change quickly
Just a quick glance in the wrong direction
And all might raise suspicions
Everything else lies in front of him on this paper questions, questions and still no solution
Answers have been forgotten not gone just erase from his memory
With the bottom of the pencil he is sweeping until the wrong is no more
Because all that ever was or still is, a mistake
A faux pas made by the long distant mind who might be lost, confused,
Distracted perhaps or is still daydreaming
About the days where everything actually made sense
But none of this make sense, he could knock the words of this problem
Into your thick skull and still you wouldn’t understand
That time is still going while he is being tested
Torture he says to himself should be the word for this atrocity
For which has been committed while this vile excuse of an inspector
Is eyeballing him so he won’t scam his way through this evaluation
But he will, he guarantees you he will because ink covered his very sweaty palms
Which held the inscriptions to this despicable operation.