Of sleepless nights, of hectic days,
Of times spent staring at a parchment,
O, it’s tiring, this craze;
For my melancholy state, this is the argument.
The sun goes down, the moon comes out,
Yet I remain in the same spot.
The stress I face is what I write about,
My nerves wracked, and I distraught.
But I will pursue on my journey to success;
I will thwart any obstacles in my path;
I will foster determination and progress,
And perhaps, when I’m done, I will soak in a bath.
For I am from hard work and dedication,
And I will fly high to reach my aspiration.