Friday afternoon on a
Warm summer’s day.
Shouts from the playground:
“Come out, come out,
Come out to play!”
We can’t, our
Hands cramped,
Heads aching,
Blessed repose and rest
Never came to the deservéd.
A hundred and twenty seconds to every minute.
A hundred and twenty minutes to every hour.
Time is as Time does,
And nothing slows time like
Endless low distant hum, or
Sigh, mutter of ourselves.
Exam time is here –

Yes, its exam time in Birmingham. Fun fun fun… This was written during an exam (I finished slightly too early, I feel…) so it is, really, the genuine feelings of a real schoolchild. As if the rest of this blog isn’t…


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