To study texts in solitude,
births tears anew in morning’s wake.
Since work doth not improve my mood,
I think I’d rather eat this cake.
To check my grades on d2L
would surely break my spirit strong.
My sober clicks land me in hell;
my study habits have been wrong.
And so, I promise to myself
My time shall not be turn’d to waste.
My head, it slams against against my shelf
I scold myself: “I must make haste!”
Though, three more tranquil days of freedom do, somewhat, console me;
for my green-eyed friends, but two remain—I’m smirking at their jealousy.