The Last Semester

It is already a tiring race
With many of the miles behind me.
I have kept up a strong and steady pace
And have moved through the pack expertly.
But as I know the end is within sight
And I think of the pain I have endured,
I begin to grow weary of this fight
With all its endurance that has been purged.
As my gaze ventured to the oasis
That shines brightly beyond the finish line,
I wish to join the tropical bliss
And the people drinking it fruity wine.
But I need to quit raging such a fuss
For it does nothing but kill my focus.

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