Pages blur under tired eyes,
pencils scratch like restless thoughts.
The clock mocks me,
tick by relentless tick,
while assignments grow like weeds
I can’t pull fast enough.
Professors talk in formulas and rules,
but I am more than numbers,
more than footnotes,
more than the letters that judge my worth.
Late nights taste of redbull and regret,
yet I press on,
because giving up
is not in the blood I carry.
I balance the weight of expectations;
family, legacy, self
all resting on shoulders
that feel too small,
yet refuse to crumble
Every paper is a battlefield,
every grade a question:
Am I enough?
But in the spaces between struggles,
I find small victories,
a paragraph finished,
a concept understood,
a reminder that my mind is mine
to grow,
to fight,
to shape the future I want.
Neela Freeman is fourth year exercise science major (NABJ’s Vice President), nf981460@wcupa.edu