The Plight of Every Triton   Leave a comment

Smile on, my friend.

Every triton knows the pain
When this moment comes, insane
It’s sadist-cruel, a wrong, a crime
When tritons meet enrollment time
And while the classes we’ve predicted
Are all filled up, taped off, restricted
Class planners are blown up, shattered
None of our planning ever mattered
The best laid plans of mice and men
Lenny’s brains splattered again

Now what the fuck could they be thinking
Their cruel tricks are really stinking
70 seats for a required class
Inviting you to, “kiss my ass.”
Mark me waitlist seat eighty eight
As the anger I now radiate
Consumes my flesh, it fills my lungs
Is joined by twenty thousand tongues
All aghast, exasperated
Webreg could not be more hated.

We can never get our classes
lament the sullen, bloodied masses
Super seniors, athletes, others
Don’t share the pain of us brothers
Are they targets for us to blame?
I don’t think so, I’d do the same
We hate seeing that red-texted “full”
Shouting “what the fuck! That’s bull.”
And realizing our greatest fear
That class is offered once a year.

Most all of us tritons feel the sting
Bad enrollment times and waitlists bring
So few seats for classes for my major
The absurdity is such an enrager
My schedule, planning, spirit, broken
The administration’s budget has spoken
But ranting here in angry rhyme
Won’t help me graduate on time
Won’t help me, but wouldn’t you know it
My title’s acronym: The PoET.


Posted February 19, 2010 by Wada in Uncategorized

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