Dead and cold

I don't do well with deadlines

As the clock sped, my fands froze
A lurking anxiety in me arose.
It was a face I knew, but hadn't seen
It was a devilish and cruel being.

What would my boss think,
I couldn't even handle this cinch.
Am I the world's worst engineer
Is it a joke, my carreer?

I need to type, but I can't
To die is all I want.
I will never become the next Jobs,
This realisation makes my head throb.

If only I had started before,
I'd be spared this ungodly furore.
I don't love what I do,
What will happen if this doesn't go through.

I am alone in my room,
Battling this sense of doom.
I am my friend and my foe
Then the cold floor touches my toe.

Calmly I look back at the remaining time
And command my fingers to toe the line.
Mostly, it gets over before time runs out,
"I live to fight another day", quietly I shout.