I Know What You Did All Semester Poem by sydney carter

The alarm starts ringing, I press snooze
The battle of the bed is one I know,
I'm always going to lose
I have always been told.. be early to bed, early to rise
But whoever did that, did he ever win any prize?
I know the sun's out, its morning so what?
Let me sleep a little more, after all it's still night in america...

And besides college just reopens today,
Even the teachers would be in no mood to teach,
And if at all they are,
It's best we're out of reach.

But for all good things, as they say..
There is always a heavy price to pay,
The attendance dips faster than Charlie Sheen’s career graph,
And reality hits harder than the backhand of Steffi Graf.

So now here I am sitting through every lecture,
And it drags on for so long,
I'm sure by the time it ends,
Even Osama would be captured.
And even as a voice inside, tells me to pay attention,
I'm falling into so many levels of sleep,
I suspect I am under 'INCEPTION'

Months fly by, and it keeps getting worse,
Assignments and write ups, oh what a curse!
Sitting and writing day and night,
Piles of files, just infinite.
The pain in my hands reaches for the stars,
Till date I've fractured 6 bones in my arms,
It comes to haunt every six months,
This nightmare called 'SUB-MISSIONS'

Exams are round the corner,
Just 2 days to spare,
But guess where i am now?
I'm sitting at a multiplex.
'You know you should be studying' says a voice from within,
But the film features Angelina I argue, how could I ever miss?

But they do catch up...my mis-deeds
Exactly on the exam eve,
The books then simply don't make any sense.
Hours go by and I am staring at the same sentence.

I open the class notes, almost panting
Trying to decode my own handwriting.
A vain option...
I soon realize, in fright,
Would be easier to learn chinese in a night.

But luckily the torture does get over,
The exams one day disappear.
So time for party, and hi-five's
Another semester gone, and mom 'I'm still ALIVE'

But short lived are the sunny days
Soon a piece of paper arrives to seal our fate...
They call it 'Results', and this time I don't joke,
Translated it means, HOROR-SCOPE

As I stand in line, waiting for the execution,
Praying for divine intervention,
If anything could possibly make it worse,
I hear that voice again, now sure I am cursed,
I suffer a mini heart attack as it whispers..
'I know what you did all semester,
I know what you did last semester'