4 Years of Change

Fresh, brand new,

doe-eyed and few,

will ever experience the ways,

the hallways bobbed and waved,

with a mix of classes new and old,

of which many stories were told.

Then came the next,

a year older at least,

if not by age, then by respects,

a new crowd, yet familiar all the same,

these students who all seem to want fame.

A junior now, but just you wait,

the academics stay stale, but create,

a plague of irritation,

from many in damnation,

the next year abound,

will drive us into the ground.

The moral of the year at last,

is that you don't need to finish fast,

take all the time in the world, 

to think about the Underworld,

but don't forget to read the texts,

that will ultimately decide the rest,

of your life now, if not the next.