Oh the hours I toil and toil some more;
these words seem so empty and, frankly, quite a bore.
Yet it’s important, they say, to study and study hard.
“But teacher, the sun is shining. Can I not at least sit in the yard?”
My eyes they droop as the hours wane on and the weather grows dreary.
I stir and shake my head, but my vision remains bleary.
I try and try again to compose a word upon the page,
but my mind cannot manage it and I’m suddenly filled with rage.
"Why must I work so hard for such a small result?
My eyes bleed, and my brain hurts, but if I don’t finish I’ll feel nothing but guilt.”
—Ari Ryder (via inkwellofastrugglingwriter)