It’s that time again,
the powers are craving numbers.
I offer them up in humble servitude
but I drag them, kicking and screaming,
out of you. You’ll be rewarded, sure,
but just know there is no test that can
sell them your mind, that can paint them
your heart, that could ever convince them
that you are more than dollar signs and
little brown statistics. Just do your best,
my dears, for your mothers, and we can
rip up all our papers when we’re done.
Day 152 – Testing
The 365 Poetry Project 
so so true. loved this one.