When the clock ticks
my mind sinks
my face shrinks
my *** stinks
my lungs pump
my stomach lumps
my heart beats like a drum
why do exams **** so much ?

Dear exams,

      I'm sorry to say, but I've lost all interest in you. I don't see why I didn't
lose interest in you sooner to be completely honest. I use to love learning
new things and cramming useless information into my cranium, but I must
say that forcing myself to study to pass your standards is just not who I am.There's no need to throw a question I cannot answer in my face whenever you're upset. Nor do I have to explain myself to you for that matter. Has anyone told you you ask a lot of questions?

      I must admit that I am not perfect, but neither are you. You are filled
with errors and flaws that I must say are simple mistakes. I will always
remember you, but I don't think my memory of you will be a fond one...
I am grateful for all the support you've given me especially with my
grades, but I will admit that understanding you was difficult. I remember
hopelessly thinking about you all night after seeing you. I felt terrible
because I literally had no idea how to go about answering your fifty
questions. Even though you gave me choices it was still a difficult decision
to make. I went home that night disappointed thinking that I had messed
up my only chance with you.

      But now you're back, but I admit I am definitely not excited about it.
And I will see you again today, which like I said I am not excited about. I
guess that all we can ever be now is acquaintances. A student to exam
relationship that definitely bares no love what so ever. I cannot wait to be
done with you. As they say, there are a million exams in the library...
And they should all be thrown away.

P.S: The paper shredder was looking for you.

                                                                                      Sincerely,
                                                                                        The unhappy student

They said that all that glittered was not always gold
And even your star-struck eyes couldn't be sold
for much of a profit; we were worth a little bit too much
even if half of us couldn't be bothered to give a

piece of the soul to the great big unknown
so you danced to the music and stayed within your zone
but your hips didn't quite move and your behind didn't quite shake
Exam season had you thinking that the last turn-up was a mistake

So you turn't down for everything to become a Top Achiever
and gave your soul to Cambridge because it's clear that you're a dreamer
And that's why your eyes became so suddenly star struck
And how suddenly a past paper was worth a little bit too much

But it was worth it because

Even if one year of your life passed you by...
Even if one year of your life passed you by...
Even if one year of your life passed you by....

...You still wrote your candidate number in sneakers looking fly.

So even though not all of us can become an A*
That doesn't mean that not all of us in life cannot go far
As written in the constellations are the particles of our star-dust
the whole is more than the sum of its parts and so are you my little star-struck

former IGCSE candidate.
See? You really were able to manage it.

2am, deadlines racing closer,
Racing the sun over the horizon
Muddled thoughts, blurry eyes
Rub them until you see straight
Until you can see the stars again
Third night this week
Panic gently, but make no sound
Reaching for the mug of bitter nectar
Panacea now, but the enemy tomorrow
Take a soothing sip, burn your tongue
Its hotter than these tears, taste nothing

One page down, four years to go
Drink your black, black coffee
Black as the night,
Black as ink flowing like blood
From one thousand pens
Flowing like dreams
From their arms
It's just another drug
Welcome back, old friend
Feel it deep in your bones
You are nothing here,
A drop of coffee on a white page
You are nothing in this library silent

In a hammock
On the eve of final exams
There is a scent of caffeine coursed bodies pacing
the distances of Starbucks and the library,
an unusual sight at eleven at night

There is peace
In the fraternity- I think begins with a Sigma-
running around playing a vicious thirty person game of tag
Yeah, I witnessed that wipeout and it was hilarious

There is heat condensed around the height of brains
Struggling to realize dreams that require
Busy work man! It's just like six hours of nonstop busy work
The guy on the bench behind me whined out cooling breath of brown leaves

There is energy in the fractal jungle above
The towering umbrellas of Palm trees which grant me the magic of hovering
I see through waving leaves Orion's Belt.
The light pollution overpowers his body but
he reminds me that there is more in the astral world

Ibis scour the ground
Some would read the tea leaves
that bravest of birds has crossed my path
And I will survive the tests that I allow to define possibilities in life

There is closure to my left
Two girls in a hammock, bodies combined like a turtle in a shell
Only they know what goes on inside,
and all I witness is the harmony that the trials that students go through that unites

I fall in love  with dynamics.
I am intrigued by chemistries.
But people, in their own right,
Have never stolen the breath from me.

The interaction between one person and another
Can entertain me for days, weeks, months
To see how their dynamic works, how it functions
In every and every situation, at least once.

Dynamic is not something everyone has
Chemistry is not ensured from birth or at all
Thus when I see it, positive or negative,
It grips me, holds me, keeps me under its thrall.

I do not fall in love with people.
It is a fact I've come to accept.
People have never inspired adoration, no,
I fall in love with dynamics.

I should waste more time revising. I feel as though it may benefit me; may I extrapolate the fact I stated waste more time, not spend. I could use that time practicing songs on my bass or beating Mario’s *** on the GameCube. I feel mediocre but that’s okay because I AM mediocre; and a sell-out. I should make that point clear. I smoke; not like a chimney, it depends on if I feel like combusting into a cloud of tobacco ash. I would happily crementate my being. I would happily get hit by a car and become the road ****. I would happily fall from a concrete building into a six foot deep cavern. Passive suicidal thoughts at eight in the mourning; just like coffee but it doesn’t make you need to ****. Just those bitter moments you need to get your day started on the wrong side of the bed.

We look like Tim Burton characters
In stature and mind.

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the co-ordinate y
My soul exists, and so begging to die
In revising chem, maths and more all days.  
I hate thee more than the universe size
If Olber’s paradox was somehow true.
I hate thee freely, as men fight Mech 2.
I hate thee purely, as they waste their lives.
I hate thee with a passion put to use
Poetically procrastinating you.
I hate thee with hatred I cannot lose
With my lost UMS – hate thee with breath,
Pens, tears, of all my strife – and, if God choose,
I shall only be free when I’m with death.