oh dearest deadline day
bane of my breath
seven ago you were seven away
but it now seems less have passed
the seconds tick slowly, but fast
my head pounds, my stomach growls
nary a word is typed on this blank white
and my phone is silent, asleep as if night
what's left of you seems hours
but more is the work
eventually you'll pass
and i'll smile sweet relief
but soon you'll come back
and my heartache replete
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