It is time for quizzes yet again,
In the ass, it is sometimes a pain.
To catch up with acads, its a chance,
You know, like a short flirty romance.

Much closer becomes the stud in the other wing,
Xeroxed notes take prime place as the in thing;
Setting the Guru registers ringing,
Friends praise, few are heard signing.

PPTs and fundaes are given and taken,
Over dinner tables, problems are spoken,
Getting up early becomes so easy,
While some try to feign being queasy.

Lib turns into a muggu beehive,
Thanks to them, its still alive.
For some, it always remains a strict no-no,
Their abilities, they claim, it brings to a low.

Seniors have just one or two,
They are the fortunate few.
Far tougher quizzes await them,
Be it elec, meta, BT or chem!

Rhymezone wasn’t used for this one,
I write somethings just for vague fun.
I know you wont call this poetry,
But did I ever ask you to?

The last 2 lines intentionally left non-rhyming

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