The TestA Poem by Patrick McCombs
Divert all power to the source
Let it run its course Running purely on caffeine A highly functioning machine I can no longer feel Can't tell what is real Straight processing power That is the hour When everything is final The needle always skips on the vinyl I am completely efficient My body is nutrient deficient My body is utter destruction My mind is under construction A complete renovation An overload of information My vision is starting blur Waiting for miracles to occur My memory blanks I can't access the memory banks There's the test I can't rest My pencil is shaking I'm at the point of breaking I pass out with the test in front of me © 2013 Patrick McCombs
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Added on June 6, 2013 Last Updated on June 6, 2013 Author
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