“I am one of the few”: a poem of sorrow

“I am one of the few”: a poem of sorrow

I am one of the few.

One of those who struggles. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is a struggle.
For others, it is Tuesdays and Thursdays.

You don’t know I exist, because I look
just like you.

I am one of the few.

Every day I go through the same routine as you,
but there is just one thing that sets us apart.
It’s not the number of classes that we take,
because I’m sure we have similar credit hours.
It’s not the way we look,
because we all range in appearance.
It’s not where we are from since we come from many
different
places
around the globe.

I am one of the few.

You might be able to identify us from the others on campus,

Possibly by a small grimace due to an upset stomach
Or the slight smell of 100% post-consumer
recycled cardboard on our hands.

Or maybe by our absence from the Rott on certain days.

I am one of the few.

There is one thing that, if you would look close enough, You could see what makes us different

from

you.

A quickened pace as we rush from our 11 o’clock class to our 12 o’clock class
A leftover packet

of mustard
or mayo
in our
back
pocket.

A small box,
no more than a few inches in
length
width and
height.

I am one of the few.

But it is what is within the box that sets us apart from you.
Inside
the
Box

Is lunch.

I am one of the few who has a boxed lunch.

Nathan Pauls, Funnies Editor
Nathan Pauls, Funnies Editor
Written by Nathan Pauls, Funnies Editor

1 Comment responses

  1. Avatar
    September 30, 2018

    One cannot think, outside this box. Truly, without this box, come the high noon class, one could not think.

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