The Truant Tales

Yet another day in the dreaded place,
Approaching it there's a scornful gaze,
where souls are slowly pushed over the edge,
its a place i call college.

Gradually our self esteem takes a fall,
as we become another brick in the wall^,
lecture after lecture, we'd have to bear it,
our thoughts being drained out - bit by bit.

Like a pensioner in his twilight zone,
like a farmer with a bad loan,
like Michael Jackson in an adult's jail,
a student's life is a sad tale.

College is like having a chloroform cloud over our head,
into the bowels of hell, we're slowly being led,
college life is boring and pathetic,
and the lectures are like an anesthetic.

But lo, at the end, the Hell's bells seems to shout,
as every student eagerly scampers out,
As we turned around, the Devil seems to say,
"Don't fret, college will be back the next day".

*- the poet solemnly swears he hasn't heard of a band called AC\DC
^- the poet solemnly swears he hasn't heard of a band called Pink Floyd or the usage of the term "Brick in the wall"