The Student’s Tale (or ‘Twas the Night Before Finals – Redux)

141‘Twas the night before finals and all through the U,
Every student was stressing from not having a clue.

In dorm rooms and stacks we drank coffee galore,
Calculating grades needed to pass that course.

We scrawled in our notebooks, we longed for our beds
While dreams of the Dean’s List danced in our heads.

Regrets were high; we’d skipped and dawdled a lot
And in desp’ration we all had the same thought:

“Passing tomorrow requires too goddamn much luck.
I need a miracle! Without one I’m fucked!”

But hope was alive, we could pass after all
Not even needing fists full of Adderall.

Together we rallied turning attention away
From Facebook and Netflix – th’ distractions o’ th’ day.

Faster and faster the hours did pass
‘Till our time was up and we sauntered to class.

We mathed and we wrote and we cried and hands shook,
As we tried to bullshit what we had read in our books.

Then “pencils down!” was called but we knew in our hearts
That our best was done (and it made us feel smart).

So hear our tale weary student, be brave. Do not weep,
For the semester is over! Congrats! Now go to sleep.

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