As finals week approaches, you hear many strange things
Of syllabi, papers nigh, and grades that terror brings.
The professor sees a gaping lack
Of those who sit in seats far back
To them I’d say, “Why run away,
And who’s paying for your slack?”
Then there are those who count
Every jot and tittle
Adding amounts of points, percents,
and noticing errors so little.
Some say that in five years or so
Nobody will care or know
Your scores from finals week.
Of this I think…and weep.