The Concentration Game

I have decided that it was finally time.
The timer was ticking - this would be no easy feat.
Slowly drowning in a sea, sifting through coursework
before the inevitable lone bugle heralds the horrors of exams...

Forcing myself to pick up that pen,
it's not that hard - maybe I'll get a head-start.
Looking over my shoulder... checking for the beast,
of Procrastination - thank the Lord it wasn't there
I could finally work in peace.

Tick, tick, tick...
The minutes are ticking away.
My mind is leading me astray.
Shadows of the beast linger in the corner of my eyes as I'm
staring blankly at the question papers, I start to realise
my focus is beginning to waver.

Questions one, two and three...
they're supposed to be easy but they keep on stumping me...
Questions four, five and six...
I've gotten myself into such a frightful fix...
Question seven, eight and nine...
Would I make it out of here alive?

Ten.
Still nothing.
So I guess I'll try again.

Second attempt this time - let's get it right.
Writing in a black biro, its nib so pointy and fine.
I've dotted the question - let's get to work.

But before I do - I check to see
whether the monster lurks, its eyes filled with a greed.
To spoil, deilfe - ruin and mislead.
Its shadows run up and down the wall.
Preventing me from focusing at all.
Procrastination - sloth - one of the seven deadly sins.
Its lethal aroma is too pleasant to resist.
I turn away from my papers, away from my future.
I spend an hour on my phone.
I decide I'll spend another...

I'm losing my mind - how can I win?
Every time I try - I only seem to give in.
Head spinning, I slump on the table.
What is happening to me?
My concentration's failing me.
It's only a matter of time until the bugler's horrifying herald.
Until the angels' procession of death carries me forward.
Exams are in the distance... their tongues lolling open.
Waiting for the weary victim to fall into their trap
never to return again.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Ten minutes are left, on the clock.

Ten, nine, eight...
How can I deal with the weight?
Seven, six, five...
I have lost my determination, and with it, all my drive.
Four, three two...
What else can I do?

One.
It's done.

I hang my head in shame.
For I have lost the concentration game.
The fury is evident on the timer's face.
I'm a waste of its time, a waste of its space...