May
Even though many my days are numbered;
the forever setting sun.
And with the number of days at hand,
my imagination is on the run.
It creeps about day in and day out;
eternal bliss of envy and sight.
It screams aloud about my dorm,
one more number this night.
For as finals draw near;
I get less and less sleep.
And as the sun starts to rise,
I hope these lessons will seep.
Copyright © Matthan Atherton | Year Posted 2010
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