poetry
First year
I miss the labs, I really do, The days of being fresh and new, When innocence was still a shield, And youth had promises to yield. I miss the glow, the sudden grace, Of seeing my crush in that old sp
poetry
A spectacle of dust in the bigger plot
A breath of life, a brief display, We claim the crown, we rule the day. We build our towers, thick and tall, And think ourselves above it all. But time, the quiet, patient king, Unravels every earthly