Year 5777

I'm a Jew, this is true,

So no, the year is not new,

I'm still in my year, our calendar goes by the moon.

It's going alright, I haven't heard back from the University yet,

But I'm sure I'll be fine, I type, as I begin to sweat.

I'm a senior in high school, and I'm having a lot of fun,

I spend all of my time, trying to rhyme.

I really love poetry, this year made me forget,

But no amount of stress, could force me to suppress,

My love for words, I must confess.

So the current year will go on, I hope I get in,

I can hear my grandma calling, she says, "I hope you win!"

She doesn't want to pay my college tuition.

This poem is about: 
Me

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