Good neighbors, sweet friends, can you forgive me?
In long, still and creeping hours of study,
I can be stern and inaccessible.
My studies tax me to basest function,
resting, weight-like, on my wretched shoulders.
I, too-weary, ebb and at times, tend to
spare few feelings and gall, as if licensed.
Sometimes I go, unwillingly to class,
a melancholy lass. Please, if we talk,
speak gently. I labor under command,
and you may not be answered with reason.
Hereby hangs the tale, ladies just and fair.
Sleep, that dark medicine, has restored me,
my sanity and my better judgment.
Patiently receive my apology
and recall our many fun adventures.
An apology in sonnet
I was rude to some roommates, late one night because they were having fun, and I was completely stressed out - that’s all, we made up - but it made for a sonnet =]
