Original Poetry Fan Fiction ❯ The Last Three Weeks ❯ The Last Three Weeks ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

The Last Three Weeks

It's starts with a thought
as you stand in line...
Since when did you start to worship
the god that is Starbucks?
Coming surely more often
than you go to church.

Wait in line to offer worldly goods
to receive the divine liquid
Tea, coffee, espresso
Anything with the blessed substance
known as caffeine

While standing in line
you hear from the Bio major
that the Math major
chucked his calculator at
his professor's 'temporal lobe'
They should have kicked him out
instead they want him as the pitcher
But you are waving bye to him
that formaldehyde is stronger
than the espresso.

The professor drones on
and you wonder how
those deadlines jumped forward
Surely they weren't that close?

Off to the library in between class
you and fifty others
To get a few more references
for that term paper
that jumped over time

You hear from the English major
about the guy
who bought his paper on line
and got kicked out
or you think she said that
from behind that mountain of books.

Your own paper is tucked safely away
in your little thumb drive
and in your back up
and in your back up's back up
You run your citations through
the son of citation machine again
and you wonder...
Do you need to cite citation machine?
Would the world implode
if you used citation machine
to cite citation machine?

No time to think about that...

Time to beg professors.
Just one more day
Just one more point
Just one more!

You hear from the Art major
that her friend
broke down in tears
and ran from class
She's quit for good
Your eyes drop and you wonder
How can she stand
to have that on her clothes?
Paint... clay... charcoal... and...
What is that!?

You would think that home means sleep
alas but no
Study groups, all nighters, term papers
These terms mean it is time
to visit the church of Starbucks again
to buy some 'salvation'

Hours later
Your hand is going to fall off
Your brain is chafed
but no, that annoying voice says
a brain can't chafe
... can it?

No energy to think on that...

You hear from the Political major about the rich kid
that snapped in the middle of his speech
He stood there for two minutes
not saying a thing
Does he really need to wear that suit everywhere?
Once more you recite your own paper
and resolve that you will not fail

You wake up still high on glue and maker fumes
Because today is the day of oral reports
there are more display boards than should exist
You fumble them all on the way up the stairs
and yell at those that step on them
until they stop
to help pick them up

You've been popping iron
and vitamin C
There's no time to be sick
after finals maybe

Your voice quavers at first
and the questions are killer
but it is over as you plop
into your uncomfortable seat
a momentary relief

For next is the term papers
the screen is a mess of
green and red squigglies
that surely mean doom

As you sit down to class
you pull out thin air
where the hell did it go!?

You run to the library
thank heaven for back ups
and print it out again
... at 10 cents a page

But that is over with
all turned in
now we pull out our hair
and wait for what's grim

You hear from the News major
that the quiet kid
that struggles in the back of class
was arrested for speed
used to get through the week
Were his hands always that...?
Be glad you don't need
to write that much.

Later you refuse the Ritalin
offered by a friend
and go back to your church
for some more liquid goodness

Now finals have come
so let the texts fly!
Not questions or answers
but warnings from friends
Study this
Study that
Let the cramming begin!

There's been more ibuprofen
than one person should take...
more cursing than should be allowed...
more empty pens than should be possible...

Stress has taken
10 years off our lives
but it's all over now
now we can rest
and promptly pass out
until who knows when

Family comes prodding
to see if we're alive
holding little letters
sweet looking envelopes
that settle our fates

Some huddle 'round the glow
of bright computer screens
to find despair or triumph!
Ah the knocking of knees.

For some there is sorrow
they again will pay
an exorbitant amount
for a class to retake

For some there is glory
a skip and a yell
they have conquered the day
and will move on next year

Congratulations to you
and for your hard work
you get to fight for fall classes
and do it again.

This is an origanal poem that belongs to me!