End of Semester Blues


It is not until the end of the semester
That I appreciate the vivid, variegated colors of my
highlighter and the perfect point of my pencil.
It is not until the end of the semester
That I notice how satisfying it is to hear the rattling
rustle of opening a new pack of note cards and the harmonious sound
of the continuous click of the keyboard typing.
It is not until the end of the semester
That I grasp my pen tighter than hair and bury my face deeper into
my books than my pillow.
It is not until the end of the semester
That I crave knowledge more than junk food and ramen noodles.
It is not until the end of the semester
That I realize the true life of my study tools
I wish I could have seen their vitality before my highlighter became
colorless and my pencils dulled.
I wish I could have noticed before my note cards crumpled, the pack
was empty, and the essays were completed.
I wish I could have been appreciative before my hand cramped,
head ached,and books were covered with drool.
I wish I would have enjoyed it before I questioned if my stomach
growling was telling me to circle 'C' or open the chip bag.
Hopefully I will see my study tools again soon, hopefully before

The end of next semester.

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