Better than the blogs your mother used to make.

P for Poetry

I sit in nagging silence,
My exam right here in front,
The ever-clenching nervousness,
After feeling the painful brunt.

I tap my feet like crazy,
Trying hard not to relax,
My knees a-knocking madly,
My resilience to the max,

I dab my wetted brow,
I’m swaying constantly,
I slowly moan a longing groan,
Good God! I need to pee!

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