Behind the administration block,
Trust me this isn’t a joke,
That’s where to find the torn pieces of me.
And my torn piece of letter,
For my torn life that ain’t getting better.
A letter of discontinuation,
A pause to my education,
With no recommendation,
With no certification,
They just want me to pack and go,
Tell me if this life isn’t my foe,
Tell me if this world is my home!
Of course I want to live in a better home
Three walls and a single door,
And somewhere in a hollow ground,
And in case you find me lifeless on a tree,
That place behind the administration block,
Trust me enough to call me courageous,
Tell the VC that the letter reached me alright,
Tell my mother I wasn’t an exam cheat,
Tell my mother I was confirming answers,
Tell the society I was trying to make a marking scheme.
And if my lecturer asks why I had to have an exam irregularity,
Tell him I will answer that in eternity,
Tell him my knowledge was far beyond reality.
Tell my classmates I had to question my intellectual ability.
And don’t forget to lay me with respect,
And my discontinuation letter should lay on my chest,
As the discontinuation I took to exist under the sun,
And though this looks like a courageous talk,
Trust me I hate to be an object of shame,
I hate the PDF that exists on my phone,
I wish I would turn it to the BBI report.
Till some other day,
This is the discontinuation to my pen.

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