Nothing More To Offer
By Ashley O’Hare
What did I do to feel this useless?
How long am I supposed to endure this?
I tried my best— I swear on my grave.
There has to be something more than these silly grades.
Who created this cruel, crude game?
Can I bow out— this is not my thing.
I would rather go home and sing in the rain
while nature washes away the stinging pain.
These campus walls are obnoxiously ordained—
the flashing dollar signs give me aches in my brain.
My wallet is empty— it has nothing more to offer.
I should have known better than to look and loiter.
Before I put my name into the lottery,
I should have considered the public mockery.
ashleyohare 