Poem for the Undergrad

I think my self-perfection, is driving my depression.
And although I grow older, mom’s still looking o’er my shoulder
I think she’s meddling again. 

And I feel helpless when in school, of freedom I tend to drool.
It’s not realistic now, but I wish, just, oh…somehow
That I could graduate on time.

A six year undergrad, and things still continue to look bad…
Once more I’m their bitch. Where’s that fucking fast-forward switch?
Where’s the life I lead in summer?

Edu-what? This is shit…Crap! Fuck! @&$! (pardon the fit) 
I should sell my books; it’s like all the pages give me looks.
Saying: You paid too much for this hell. 

Coffee day and night and still I have to fight;
I can’t seem to stay here, in the present where I fear,
I must obey what the whiteboard says.

God, I can’t wait to leave! This alma mater, I should cleave.
But first I have to get through day one…after all, school’s only just begun
…again.