We entered the room as allies,

Honest with each other,

And united by our foolishness.

The silent classroom, with

Fellow students waiting for

The distribution of test papers.

We swore, moments before,

That we had both failed

To study for the test.

A source of comfort

To my worried soul.

Yet as I scribbled down my

Hopeless answers,

I had a feeling in my

Mind, that my ally

Was lying.

The sound of their strokes and

scribbles were too confident

For a troubled soul.

Days passed, and results,

Or should I say, heartbreak,

Ensued. I clutched my

Brokenhearted score in my

Hands, quivering,

Yet when I looked over to

My ally, I saw a perfect score.

Perhaps it was betrayal.

Perhaps it was comfort.

Perhaps it was a lie.