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Ww Jan 8
the halls today are filled
of walking husks of people
heavy mutter clutter the air
all are looking feeble

textbook-laden brains
lips a-coffee stained
eyes manic to the brim
composure wearing thin

stress-filled laughters
litter conversations,
every word carry the burden
of hard sleepless nights

some are carefree
but most are buried inside the library
a last ditch effort to arm the cavalry
as the enemy nears the periphery

the bell rings loud
the masses resort to silence,
the death toll rang
all around the campus

as the door came crashing down
you can almost hear
the desperate souls' silent cries
as "FINALS" enter with a smile.
apology for the jumbled verses
for this was born as my brain traverses
between panic to dilemma
from philosophies to subpoenas
from economy to mitochondrias
from pen to paper
this poem I cater.

I just needed to let go of some steam. cause **** I'm so stressed right now.

— The End —