Saturday, September 17, 2011

A Question

With a heavy load he trots to school.
Bulging knowledge but shoulders droop.
Here it ends, here it begins-
yet another day of battle with books.
How this chore that once brought amuse
when thrill aroused just by peruse-
has now become a substance to gauge,
and joy remains only in muse.
Devil exam creeps in the slumber,
keeps eyes open to chase some numbers.
A cruel race without a finish line.
One not learns but just remembers.
Little spider is caught in it's own web-
needs an hour-glass that is sand-less.

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