I sat the test AGAIN.

I sat the test again.

Same desk. Same pen.

Same weight in my chest,

same voice in my head saying, “Not this same test.”

“How pathetic to be doing this AGAIN?! TCH.”

*

Again, I came prepared….

I came with fight,

burned my candle deep through the night.

I studied hard, I gave my all,

but still, again I watched it fall.

*

Blank page. Blank mind.

Time ticking, breath unkind.

I froze. I cracked.

I watched my effort slip through the gaps

of second-guesses, silly slips,

marks lost to trembling fingertips.

*

They think it’s laziness, they think it’s me who lack.

They don’t see me breaking my back.

They don’t see the hours, the tears, the grind,

just the grade that leaves me behind.

*

But I’ve been fighting, don’t you see?

This battle’s deeper inside of me.

It’s not just letters on a page,

it’s years of pressure, silent rage.

It’s trying to prove I’m not too slow,

that what I’ve learned still dares to show.

That my grades reflects the MUCH I KNOW.

*

Oh God I’ve done this before.

Poured myself into pages

till my eyes went sore.

Gave 100%, and then some more.

But the marks don’t reflect the war.

*

And I hate it,

how one paper can make you question your worth.

How a grade can bury the effort,

and all they see is what you’re not.

*

They don’t speak for the ones like me,

who don’t glide forward effortlessly.

The ones who stumble, fall, repeat,

yet still return on tired feet.

*

You know…

I was the kid who grasped things fast,

who answered first, who always passed.

But now my mind moves different ways,

and I’ve been stuck in these delayed days.

*

Still, I rise.

Though the scoreboard lies,

though I’ve watched dreams vaporize.

Still I try. Still I fight.

Still I chase that mark and that light.

*

Let them race. Let them win.

I’ll build my strength from deep within.

I’ll gather every failed attempt

and turn it into my cement.

*

Because I’m not done. I’m not through.

These failures will birth something new.

I may be slow, I may take time,

but I’ll make my pain a sacred rhyme.

*

One day they’ll ask how I survived,

how I fought back and still arrived.

And I’ll say this: “I learned to bend,

but I never broke. I sat again.”

*

I’ll leave my mark, I’ll stake my claim.

They’ll speak of me, not just my name,

but how I rose from every fall,

how I turned failure into a call.

*

A call to rise, to burn, to roar,

to knock again, and break the door.

*

So here I stand, here I vow:

I’m not behind, I’m just building now.

And when I reach that finish line,

it’ll echo with every failed sign.

*

So yeah…

I sat the test again.

And if I need to,

I’ll sit it again and again and again.

*

Because every time I sit that test,

I bring everything I’ve got.

And one day, the results will catch up to my plot.

*

It might take you longer.

It might feel unfair.

But the ones who fight through failure,

we’re not just passing tests.

We’re learning to rise from despair.

*

So let them race ahead.

Let them call you late.

We’ll arrive with deeper strength

and a story they can’t replicate.

*

(The lights fade. Applause erupts. The valedictorian, once the girl who failed, walks off the stage. The world didn’t expect her to be here, but here she is. Her name is now spoken with respect, not because of the grades she got, but because of the fire that never went out. And maybe, just maybe, that was the real test.)