Sympathy

I know what the student feels, ah me.
when the sun is bright on the courtyard chairs,
when the wind blows soft through the springing grass
and the day in beauty does surpass,
when the first bell chimes and the freshmen stare,
and they trip in the hallway with a high-pitched squeal.
I know what the student feels.

I know why the student takes AP's
and he studies late into the night,
for he must pass tests and he can't get B's
when he fain would be feeling a cool, cool breeze.
So he's stuck in the honor student's plight
His own sense of self he can appease.
I know why he takes AP's.

I know why the student sighs, ah me.
When his back is sore and his fingers shake.
It is not a sigh just to breathe the air,
but a darker one of deep despair,
And he yearns for the day when his brain won't ache,
and to his studies he'll say his sweet goodbyes,
I know why the student sighs.