I love to succeed,
I love to excel,
With challenging courses, tremendous teachers,
And caring, colorful classmates,
I enjoy my time, my peers, and my surroundings.
I would hate
To quit,
To give up,
To stop.

I go home at night after school and work,
And start the byproduct of this activity.
For five hours,
I slave away at my desk
Under the draining light of my lamp.
I curse my choices
as I tackle a seemingly never-ending heap of homework.
My eyes become tired and bloodshot
As I strain them in an attempt to understand
the gradually blurring phrases
On the glossy pages of my textbooks.
Nothing is ever done,
There is always more to do.
I feel as though I am chasing after something
That I’ll never be able to catch.
Like a cat chasing a mouse, too clever to be caught.

I feel drained,
like my hourglass is running low,
And want nothing more than
To quit,
To give up,
To stop.

The rewards of these labors are valuable,
They instill pride and confidence in me
and cement the purpose of this practice into my person;
The endless opportunities, the scholarships, and the college offers,
Give me hope for the future,
For a day when all of my work will pay off.

To quit,
To give up,
To stop,
Would waste all of the precious time
That has thus far been spent.
I love the activity, hate the work, but love the reward.
I hate to love school.