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Mar 2021
Simply put my life is ruled by numbers  
Digits by the dozens in screaming color

People asking how was your SAT, ACT?
Don’t be shy, go on tell us
You better have gotten over a 30
Or a string of numbers 1500 above

The concept of clocks striking six, twelve, perhaps one
Stressing to be early has already begun
Alarms ringing, time frames narrowing, dictating much of my seeing  

Algebra, geometry, chemistry galore
Maths of all sorts are sometimes a bore

The weight of a newborn, hoped to be a seven
A timely occurrence, the baby down from Heaven
  
A social security number
Rings out like a thunder
While the hospital collects its plunder
Written by
Winnalynn Wood
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