Friday, October 28, 2005

5,7,5 Frustration

Frustration fills me
Pure, unadulterated.
Dead ends confront me.

Every step forward,
Means I take two steps backwards.
I only hear "no."

Is medical school
The only alternative
To endless gel runs?

How would I pay for
So many years of cutting
Up old cadavers?

Oh dear God, please no.
Not one more American
M. D. Pre-meds suck.

Taking stock I see:
No lover, no future plans,
All is uncertain.

But at least I still
Have good job security
Right? What? No?! Oh fuck.

Oh yeah and airlines?
One day, two hundred dollars?
Obscene. Fuck your life.

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