You strut past, wishing for the perfect scene;
Students writing, silently, studiously.
Instead, suffering, anxiety, fear and hatred run free in a room dedicated to the service of Christ, almost as if Lucifer himself imbued each exam paper with demonic forces.
You see students wriggle, writhe in fits of nervous energy, attempting to convert it all to productivity.

How can you see this and not cry out?
How do you console yourself as students take their own lives to escape the pressure cooker and its intense heat. Those remaining burn inside, kept silent with gratitude because they at least have a chance of escape.
I know that you cannot forget this easily, so again I implore you
. . .
save
us
from
this
before
we
burn

. . .

too many lives have been lost.
too many dreams crushed with the harsh fist you call reality.
too many heart and families broken.
it is too much for us to bear.