The end is near, and yet I find,
I’m falling into traps of mine.
Love of labour keeps me strong,
But deadlines ahead are long gone.
Is it worth the painful wait,
To do more work to hand in late?
The end is year and yet I find,
My love for research left behind.
My friend was disappointed that I never write him poetry, so I asked him for a topic. He of course offered up like 5 different topics, all revolving around love and jealousy. I think he was looking for something sappy (because he’s one of the biggest romantics I know), however I’m really more of an abstract poet, or at least that’s what I gather from my writing.