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Today's poems [9.28.05]

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The Night Before Finals


 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."



1.   Vote:    Category: School and College Send this poem to a friend




There was an old maid of Nantucket
Had an asshole as big as a bucket.
While bent over the oven
A-dreamin' of lovin',
Her goat siezed the moment to fuck it. 

2.   Vote:    Category: Elderly Send this poem to a friend




Tombstone Epitaph:

Here lies a nun, she lived to the age of one hundred and ten
She gave to the worms what she refused to men



3.   Vote:    Categories: Miscellaneous, Religion and Church Send this poem to a friend




There was a young man named M'Gurk
Who dozed off one night after work.
He had a wet dream,
But awoke with a scream
Just in time to give it a jerk. 

4.   Vote:    Category: Men Send this poem to a friend




               There was an old woman of Ghent 
               She swore that her cunt had no scent. 
                    She got fucked so often 
                    At last she got rotten, 
               And didn't she stink when she spent. 

5.   Vote:    Category: Women Send this poem to a friend



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