I have my SAT tomorrow and I'm hella nervous. This is all that my hands were able to produce...


Necrophilic numbers

The numbered days have ended,
But my numbers have not moved,
I sit here with a pathetic score,
My hands feel a bit sore,
My eyes are a bit droopy,
My mouth a little drooly,
I worked hard days and nights,
I worked through all my frights,
To no avail that practice seems,
My head can no longer scream.
But my wobbly fingers still hold the pen,
And thus I begin to write again





Poetry by Dhruv
Read 741 times
Written on 2019-03-08 at 12:01

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
You've described the anxiety of waiting very well. The count down. The toll that studying takes. Well written! Now get some sleep, you'll ace it!
2019-03-08