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Every time I turn around, it’s Monday.
I still feel tired from Saturday;
The weekends start to feel like a recess break
And I’m left feeling all burnt out.

Oh, how I wish I could take longer breaks
Away from all the studying
And just “blub, blub, blub…” 
Like a goldfish.

No schoolwork piling up on my desk
No books weighing me down
No pushing myself to get good grades;
The clock’s ticking at my own pace

Moments freeze when I’m lost in dreams,
Yet deadlines loom, and reality shouts

The weight of the sky is crushing me
But somehow, this is all real.
It’s raw, and we struggle to find our way
We stumble forward and seek grace.

We laugh, we cry, we sometimes fall from the unfamiliar pace
But in each step, we start anew.
With prelims coming up,
We build ourselves from scratch— from fall.

We walk through halls we’ve never known
And wait as life unfolds in whispered schemes
We carry on and open our hearts
And mold ourselves beautifully like art.

By Denise Lazaro