Graduate School

Were it just to study, read, think and talk,

Were it only to learn and simply to teach,

It would be such a pleasant road to walk,

A heavenly path that we have all reached.

Truly, it would be hard work even still,

A joyous labor of heart, soul and head,

But the head, soul and heart it would fulfill

As by sweat of our brows we’d earn our bread.

But that is not all there is to our life

And the black reality makes me sick:

The right hand smiles while the left holds a knife

In this game of favorites and politics.

And the joy of the studies and love of the books

Is tainted, for me, by these jagged hooks.

Benjamin J. Cline

August 25, 2003