Not that long ago, this time of year would have meant research papers, recitals, and final exams. In that context during college, I penned the following poem, which I’m sharing now as a brief poetic tribute to the season and to those who are currently finishing it out.

“Finals”

Death by a thousand paper cuts,
Hands black with lead and eraser dust,
Eyes bleary from too many nights staying up,
Mind sapped by all the class assignments,
Even the rhymes come out slanted and mixed up.

Note: This was not all figurative language. I believe that my primary source of inspiration at the time was a literal paper cut or two and smudgy fingers and notepaper.