SIGH

I miss eating good food three times a day without getting broke every after meal.

I miss the comforts of my own home.

College deemed its stand in torturing me---harassing me with all its dehumanizing whines and demands.

And there's still a long long looong way to the finish line.

Yet, I've managed to get this far.

And because of that, I'll never give up.

So, bring it on baby! I'm ready!

---

College, be not proud; though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor college, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,	5
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,	10
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleep past, wee wake eternally,

And college shall be no more; college, thou shalt die.

Death Be Not Proud [revised version; death = college] by John Donne