A Modern Psalm
I pray to you, my God, for just myself.
No loving wish nor selfless whim have I
When time I spend to grasp the wispy thoughts
Of scholar's though has small effect on grades.
It seems I risk my call from You if grades,
Like mercury, slip from my grasp and fall
Below, into the realm where shame and grief
Grow evermore, to feed on fallen man.
But even now I questions thoughts inside
My thickened skull: how I perceive my grades.
Do remnants of my former thoughts, where I
Upheld myself in others' light, remain?
How You, my God, now test me with trials!
O lord, what can I do, to lift this cloud
And lift my grades? What can I do to be
In academic good, be freed from the dark depths?
I must forget this grief to seize the day
And sense the gifts that you have graced me with.
For I want nothing more to maim myself
In mind and mar the newly-formed of friends.
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