A Petrarchan Sonnet for Dean’s Date

How soon, so soon! our finals week arrives!
It drives the best of us up to the brink
And the rest of all of us to heavy drink.
But we are Princeton so this is our lives.

Our dean, you see, so fiendishly connives,
A tricky way to make sure that we think.
For most of us will see our grade-points sink
For failing to achieve top thirty-five.

But some are not content to drop a grade;
They fear getting a “B” and so insist
They need to be a bit more on the ball.
I’ll help them out, for now I have it made-
To them, I’d offer my psychiatrist
Who introduced me to my Adderall.

– TDM ’14

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