It Ain't Over Til' It's Over

I Can already scent the green of grass;

I Can sense the lustre of the globe gleaming effervescently

The leather against my skin;

Is not entirely of erotic fantasies;

Nor is it a turn to masochism;

God! Words fail to reach me;

In seven days it shalt be;

The end of ends;

the dawn of dawns

And footy takes centrestage.

Just some words to entertain you kids who've been
fairly disappointed by my absence. So nothing much is
up in cyber-Earth. Blogs remain unupdated.
My tagboard lay in ruins.
It's increasingly, rather worryingly, becoming a three way
chat room with me and zali and occasionally arfandi.
Hahaha.
Oh well, 2 years of pre-university studies culminates in
a hectic 7 day finale.
A sea of friends made;
Oceans more await;
Knowledge deepened;
Blood pressure hastened.
Notes and books, luck and prayers.
Accompany us for the final years.
Approach the exams, not with fear;
In Pink Floyd's words, Wish you were here.

Til' then The Poet Has Left The Building.