8:38 PM
A poem by sophomores Nyati Misra & Judy Wang
October 21, 2020
I guess I’m bound to be broke in art college.
You will be broke but happy, besides I will be six feet under in student debt.
Hahaha and we will meet up in a small café in the center of nyc
And I’ll be sleep deprived and you’ll be hanging on by a thread
Hovering over hot tea and talking about how
hard medical school is and how
no one is giving credit for my work.
And we will have “made it” in the most vague way possible.
But did we?
Barely.
Is it just fate and destiny
that trolled around the laboring men in my cup-sized brain.
Wait, I can picture the scene.
Pretending that by 2nd year of college we haven’t lost touch
And the familiar warmth that would have long vanished was still by our fingertips.
With some kind of pretension that escaped through the bell
on that heavy oak café door as we walk into a friendship
long forgotten.
[Read.]