I am only 49,
Not half of what I need to be.
Not good enough for credit,
A failure for all to see.
Where exactly did I lose it;
That single one percent?
My teacher can’t really tell me
But says I must repent.
How and when it got away
No one can really say.
Was it the day I was
Sick, tired, angry… who cares anyway?
Was it the day I broke up,
With my first and only love?
Or, the day I was cut from the team,
When that bully gave me that first shove?
Was it because it I was late for class
Or the homework I forgot?
Maybe it was my attitude
When I told you what I really thought.
Was it on the final exam,
Question 97 or page 102?
Just tell me where I lost the 1 percent,
And I won’t bother you.
That pesky little one percent
Now lingers on my mind.
If I had known all along,
The assignment would be in on time.
Now I might not graduate
Alongside all my peers,
I don't care!” I stoically say
While hiding back my tears.
“This will prepare you for the real world,”
My teacher says with a frown.
A teenage screw up is what I am,
It’s not the first time I have let my family down.
Another whole semester,
A thought I cannot bear.
To find that silly one percent,
Another failure we’ll likely share.
So help me find that 1 percent
To make me just half of what I need to be.
For without it, I'm just a statistic
Another failure in poetry!
Not half of what I need to be.
Not good enough for credit,
A failure for all to see.
Where exactly did I lose it;
That single one percent?
My teacher can’t really tell me
But says I must repent.
How and when it got away
No one can really say.
Was it the day I was
Sick, tired, angry… who cares anyway?
Was it the day I broke up,
With my first and only love?
Or, the day I was cut from the team,
When that bully gave me that first shove?
Was it because it I was late for class
Or the homework I forgot?
Maybe it was my attitude
When I told you what I really thought.
Was it on the final exam,
Question 97 or page 102?
Just tell me where I lost the 1 percent,
And I won’t bother you.
That pesky little one percent
Now lingers on my mind.
If I had known all along,
The assignment would be in on time.
Now I might not graduate
Alongside all my peers,
I don't care!” I stoically say
While hiding back my tears.
“This will prepare you for the real world,”
My teacher says with a frown.
A teenage screw up is what I am,
It’s not the first time I have let my family down.
Another whole semester,
A thought I cannot bear.
To find that silly one percent,
Another failure we’ll likely share.
So help me find that 1 percent
To make me just half of what I need to be.
For without it, I'm just a statistic
Another failure in poetry!