To the Medical Student
We bust ours
To help theirs.
Masters of the all-nighter,
Supporters of caffeine.
Sleep is but another word,
Far less important than fascia.
Pushing ourselves
For that extra tenth of a grade.
Somehow it doesn’t matter,
Those wise-second years tell us.
The boards will level us all,
Make our efforts worthless they say…
Our noses to our 700 pages of biochemistry,
Our pens doodling on our useless behavioral medicine books…
We ignore them, pushing on.
Together we have arrived…
With one goal in mind…
To make tons of money and marry super models…
Err,
To bust ours,
So we can help theirs…
Copyright © Jamey Hourigan | Year Posted 2007
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