Columnist shares a jovial poem
December 9, 2010
As the semester comes to a close, your thoughts may be drifting toward winter break. Unfortunately, before you head home for the holidays, you must first endure the dreaded finals week. Here is a festive finals week poem to help alleviate the stress:
‘Twas the night before finals, when all throughout campus,
Not a student was sleeping, not even Miss Janice.
The books were stacked on the table with care
In hopes that good grades would answer some prayers.
The students were slouched to work at their desks,
While visions of winter break danced in their heads.
And some in the dorms, and I in the library,
Wished for more time, for which there was nary.
When out in the lobby, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Past the computers I flew like a flash,
Right past the front desk, as I made my dash.
Florescent, the lights, of the ceiling above,
Blinded my eyes, an event not to love.
When, what to my adjusting pupils should look,
But a man with a formidable pile of books.
Holding a backpack, heavy and thick,
He threw down the bag, just like a brick.
Reddening anger appeared on his face
As he named all the texts at a frightening pace.
“Now calculus, then physics and English too,
Then history and Spanish, and oh who knew?
Taking so many classes would be my demise,
And of course they’re all subjects I really despise!”
I said, “Don’t worry, you have some time.”
And his face crumpled up like he swallowed a lime.
“Some time?” he stammered, and then, “Are you mad?
I have much to do; it’s really quite bad!”
Helping him pick up the books from the floor,
I gestured for him to go through the door.
As we arrived at my small little table
I said “Just relax, and complete what you’re able.”
He was dressed in pajamas, from his head to his toe.
Clearly exhausted; his movements quite slow.
He opened a book, history, I think
And began taking notes in a pen with blue ink.
His eyes soon were closing, but he awoke in a hurry.
His brow became furrowed, wrought with much worry.
He said, “I’ll never remember this all for tomorrow.
But I can only blame myself for all of my sorrow.
You see, procrastination is one sneaky chap.
He thieves all your time, suggesting a nap.
I have learned my lesson, but I fear it’s too late.
It seems naught but failure is to be my fate.”
Defiant, my new friend continued to work,
When at the next table, sat two girls with smirks.
Only minutes had passed when these two girls’ smiles,
Transformed into laughter, the kind heard for miles.
I could tell by his face, that my friend was annoyed,
And was shocked by the reserve he neatly employed.
When with much volume one girl loud confessed,
“I have much to study; Ha, for only one test!”
Finally succumbing to immense irritation,
My friend turned around to avenge such vexation,
I heard him announce, with a phrase quite terse,
“Complain all you want, but it could be much worse!”
Thankfully, silent the two girls had stayed,
And back to his reading he continued unswayed.
Remember his story, and without time don’t get stuck,
Happy Finals to all, and to all some good luck!
Ashley Cress is a student at UW-River Falls.