Sitting in back corners of classrooms,
Hiding in stacks at the library,
And lurking in dorm rooms–
These are the realms of discovery.
Young minds bombarded with facts,
Precepts put to bed as fiction.
Together, they form quintessential class acts–
None of them concerned with mathematics or diction.
This is the generation they helped build,
Their minds molded, melted, told what to believe.
Books crammed in backpacks and brains beyond filled–
Sleepless nights spent partying, for which they will grieve.
The faces change, but the song remains,
The Alma Mater no one bothered to learn.
They pine for breaks, a chance to rest their brains–
It’s freedom from campus for which they yearn.
Finals come, finals go, and the student body is a wreck.
The campus lays dormant, the silence louder than a gong.
After all the grades, and papers, and a final room check–
Another semester come and gone…
And sill no one knows the anthem song!