I long for it, the summer of last year,
the post-High freedom and new life it brought.
As our terms pass, one really should not fear
but come with haste the season next will not.
The routine schedule of my play and work,
the lack of worry in each day's new light.
But now in darkness stress and fatigue lurk
and thus each imposed challenge I must fight.
The liberation granted us each May,
the tease it is, it shields from us the truth.
Our future lives will seldom have a day
of pleasant, care-free attitudes of youth.
To overcome each man's misfortunes had
endure we must, and do so patience-clad.
