Ode to the dreaded finals, the papers that bring me stress. Ode to the dreaded finals, that time in the semester, so full of duress.

Ode to the dreaded finals, those assignments that make me sick. Ode to the horrible finals, the exams that could suck a disgusting flavored candy... (What? I have to watch my language. I'm a lady, after all.)

Odddeeee... To all the teachers, this article is for thee; to remind you that I hate you, for this final that tortures me.

Ode to my sweet college, that requires I make straight A's. We both know, now, that you're dreaming -- there is quite literally, no effing way.

Final exams are upon us -- the time to stress is near. Starbucks will fill up with students, caffeine will fuel their own tears. The tents will shoot up in Hunter, the books will be open all night. And two weeks from now, you'll remember, the professor said: "Don'tThinkYouCanJustStudyForThisFinalTheWeekBeforeAndGetAwayWithPassing.." And she was right.

Ode to you, ya' filthy finals, for you fill my heart with hate. A paper, a test, multiple choices, all while I still haven't ate.

Friends are out having fun, because their majors are easy -- like English. I'm trapped in a room, praying I pass, because my major is nursing and literally it's been named the toughest major in undergrad by Guinness Book of Records. (Also, you try rhyming something with "English.")

I sit in my room, alone and sad, and I begin to cry. "College is nothing but good times and fun!" Oh, what a glorious lie. I could change my major, but ah, what luck?! I close my practice final, because I don't give a

Ode to the dreaded final, You fill my heart with shame. Ode to the nasty final, all the students would feel the same. I see all my peers walking around, heads hung in dismay, for the next month solid, campus will be dismal. No laughs, not a smile... No "Yay."

So ode to thee, dear finals -- the tests that control my life. A song for thee, wretched finals, the causer of turmoil and strife.

The end of the year is dawning, seniors are ready to walk. Another semester approaches, and my nerves you readily stalk. I study and study, all the books I do read. I read every paper -- this "A" I do need. I've listend to the lectures and taken all notes, but when I check blackboard my grade is a joke. I promise to do better, once a bargain has been struck, I'll beg if I have too -- I'm sheer out of luck.

But alas, ya' damn finals, you'll best me again. I try to outwit you though we both know you'll win. So now, dearest finals, an acceptance from me -- after our fight is over, once again, a senior I will be...

Again.