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Perfectionism at School

My stomach is filled with butterflies.
My hands are shaking in fear.
Slowly, I click on the button
Knowing the answer is near.

I hold my breath
And stare at my score.
There is the answer.
I have to wait no more.

It is not perfect.
I want to cry,
But that’s when I ask myself . . .
Why?

It’s not a 100,
But an A nevertheless.
I worked hard,
And I did my best

The Earth will keep turning.
There’s no need to fear . . .
I’m still going to cry.
Just not now, not here.