A paper in front asks for water—the ruled drought.

With a ticking bomb, the pen moves, not in sync with lines.

Calculator idle; no values to give.

You sum a pass: enough to be run, not to be in the race.

A rat race.

Water funneled and puked onto paper.

You love your body? You can't.

Your memory needs emotions to hold symbols;

So it leaks, and you slip into darkness.

Weak, a spectacle now, but no one to see—

Not during a race; horse blinders don't slip.

A goal in mind: remember and memorise.