Maineiac

Twas the night before finals,
And all through the college,
The students were praying
For last minute knowledge.
Most were quite sleepy,
But none touched their beds,
While visions of essays
danced in their heads.

Out in the taverns,
A few were still drinking,
And hoping that liquor
would loosen up their thinking.
In my own apartment,
I had been pacing,
And dreading exams
I soon would be facing.

My roommate was speechless,
His nose in his books,
And my comments to him
Drew unfriendly looks.
I drained all the coffee,
And brewed a new pot,
No longer caring
That my nerves were shot.

I stared at my notes,
But my thoughts were muddy,
My eyes went ablur,
I just couldn't study.
"Some pizza might help,"
I said with a shiver,
But each place I called
Refused to deliver.

I'd nearly concluded
That life was too cruel,
With futures depending
On grades had in school.
When all of a sudden,
Our door opened wide,
And Patron Saint
Put It Off Ambled inside.

His spirit was careless,
His manner was mellow,
He started to bellow:
"What kind of student
Would make such a fuss,
To toss back at teachers
What they tossed at us?"
"On Cliff Notes! On Crib Notes!
On Last Year's Exams!
On Wingit and Slingit,
And Last Minute Crams!"

His message delivered,
He vanished from sight,
But we heard him laughing
Outside in the night.
"Your teachers have pegged you,
So just do your best.
Happy Finals to All,
And to All, a good test."