It's short, sorry. I don't know if people will get it or not.
I’m holdin’ it down.
Writing my timesheet,
pen slips off-
squealing
Smiling in the corridor
arms start to shake
feeling it shiver,
below me
Battle in P.E
hope they can’t see
my legs flail
No hope.
Drinking a beer
numbing what’s coming
losing control
and snap.
