The Scientist's Sonnet

The sky may shine above the park below

My friends will pass and bathe in sunlight bright

But I will slave away until I know,

Which primer, enzyme, or reagent is right.

The lab is cold and sterile. I am weak:

For plate after plate, research must be done

A trial unsuccessful, data is bleak

Hypothesis rejected, work undone.

The slightest error fatal, steady hand

Is needed to pipette. More cells, more wells

To still be filled. The work and its demand

Now numbs my brain. Exhaustion comes in swells.

You offer challenge, strife, and raw defiance

But still I toil for you, beloved science.

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