Weak and tired,
Others admire
On fever chills
And day dreams on fire.
Tomorrows' my exam,
And I lay her eating bread with jam,
Others working hard,
And I nap, not giving a damn.
Still I'll win,
Confidence at it's peak,
As my ego dances,
While I eat potato chips.
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My lowest point,
Is their highest point.
My starting point,
Is their finishing point.
And here I am,
Writing this poem,
And I'll definitely go to hell,
For not giving a damn.
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