The Campus Crawl is aptly named. Unchecked this age will pull you under. Numb beneath a barren sky I stumbled. Despondency creeps between these bricks. Frenetic, It stalks the pavement. It moans as teachers preach and pry, It turns away a sel ish eye, It smokes too much Smells old and stale Sits stagnant waiting for the T. Shade in the shade of complacency. Cast it off among the sheets Pale, familiar, beckoning A phrase more honest than just ine, More challenging: a reckoning. Shed the layer you’ve piled on, Protection against Boston’s chill, And reach out for that innocence Abandoned somewhere on the Hill. Come, stand upright with me once more, Not quite fresh, but still unburdened. That feeling you’ve been looking for Marches through these moments.
CAMPUS CRAWL J. THOMPSON GRIFFIN