Tick. Tick.
The old clock echoed in the quiet room,
Each second slipping away like sand in a broken hourglass.
A boy sat in front of his computer,
Staring, thinking, spiraling—
“What next?”
“What to tackle?”
“How will I ever climb this mountain of work?”
Anxiety wrapped around him like a stormcloud.
He had waited—again—until the night before finals.
Now, all he could do was sit, frozen,
Staring into the abyss of a glowing screen.
What would his parents say if he failed?
What would happen to his future?
He cursed the time he wasted,
The hours lost to distraction and doubt.
No matter how much he tried,
No matter how hard he studied,
He could never reach that elusive 50%.
They said he was one of the hardest workers—
But it never showed.
He sat silently,
Wondering: “Should I try again, or just... stop?”
He opened a movie, just for a break.
The film ended. A voice whispered, “Study.”
He opened his books. Another voice hissed,
“Stop fooling yourself.”
The work grew heavier,
The mountain steeper,
His eyelids heavier.
He lay on his bed,
Plotting how to conquer a semester in one night.
Ooooh, if only he knew.
The exam he feared...
Had already passed.
He was the teacher.
He was the one who wrote the paper.
The mountain he feared... was already behind him.