No More

My hands are sweating,

My mind is fretting.

The clock is ticking,

The time is shrinking.

Still I sit here and stare,

Spacing off into thin air.

Finally I pick up my pencil,

But I have no potential.

So I pack up my bag,

And walk pass the old hag.

"Where are you going", she demands,

And I figure she won't understand.

So I crumple up my paper,

And throw it at the educator.

Then I say, "No more",

As I walk out of the door.