First Year Blues
The hectic hustle: where sleep goes to die
Chaos and Clarity, a combo pack
That I smoked yesterday with my world intact,
No guns, no bombs — so what’s with the traffic rush?
Morning hours so slow, they make my dopamine hush.
Hustling and bustling, a bazaar called campus,
All the jungle is sheep, for the education system damned us.
They say talent with confidence always takes flight;
In this country, the educated have taken illiteracy to new heights.
“One problem an hour,” said the calculus miss,
Yet eight hours later, I find my notebooks in a mess.
My stomach growls louder, pleading for its kiss;
The food’s a tale better left to dismiss.
Maybe this is the joy of life, as they say —
Time passes by, and eventually, you’ll sway.
But I wonder if this is a waste of my diamond sleep,
A hasty decision that’s buried me deep.
Nevertheless, I must claim my power
And reach the world where I see money shower.
“I’m gonna make it through,” said every engineer ever,
But besides engineering, we do everything forever.
I just had to take a hiatus from my favorite hobby and I know I should’ve informed you. But now that I’m back, I’ll be religious about it. I PROMISE. not really.
Feel free to check out my previous articles, and you can totally unfollow me for my inconsistency and questionable writing —
