The Bursar: A Lament
Whence I awoke one April mornAt my feet I found a letterFor it I read, with hateful scorn“You bill is due, pay you’d better.”
As such I leapt from my sweet bedTo face the bursar, come what mayI heard the rumblings in my head:“With this I will waste my whole day!”
Outside was rain, I caught a busBut soon I did a good-bye badeI saw, ahead, where go I must:The Office of Financial Aid.
Inside, a line, so dark and dreary,I stood for hours of precious time.I reached the clerk and she said, “clearly,You should stand in another line.”
And so I moved across the wayTo wait once more, to stand again.Got to the front and said, “Okay,I paid my bill, this is a pain!”
The woman sneer’d, she said, “Well, ma’am,”So what, then, are you doing here?Now take this form, then you canGet back in line where you began.”
I took the form from her cold handSaid thank you, and began to write.I’d just finished when a cruel manSaid, “Ma’am, we must turn out the lights!”
I turned, in awe of such a word.He said, “Please leave, we close at five.”Dejectedly went to the curbMy form still hanging at my side.
As rain beat down upon my head,I watched my hopes go down the drain.I wished as though I were deadRather than deal with this again.