Originally Posted by Old Garrick
Next up: Home, warrior, sandwich
They don't need to be in order, folks.
Oh, how the tide turns,
Procratination drives me to despair!
From the day's revelries now I descend,
Back to my sheltered home
, fully aware
Of the needless hardships newly-made,
Within the confines of this short night.
The choice was made with the sun. Dismayed,
I must stand with the consequences,
Forced now to toil with the moon,
Wondering at the past absence of my senses. Sandwich
'd between these busy days,
Proudly lie the God-awful nights,
Full of books and papers, ink and pens.
These are the obstacles between the heights
To which I seek to rise, from far below.
I do not complain, this is the life I chose:
is gone, and with the scholar's pen
Do I now resist life's terrible throes.
Next words? Depth, disdain, sleep.