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A poem how chicken soup serves as a metaphor for the monotony of student life. |
In a pot of boiling monotony, Where the days blend to none, Simmer the souls, in dreary unity, Of the students, weary and done. A broth of tasks, thick and endless, A stew of deadlines, tests, and strain, In the cauldron of higher learning Boils the chicken soup of pain. Every morning, a ladleful, Of the same broth, thick and grey, We gulp it down, the tasteless potion, That fuels the grind of day by day. Oh, the chicken soup of existence, A metaphor for life's cruel jest, As we sip on the broth of sameness, And yearn for a moment's rest. Exhaustion creeps in, silent, slow, As the spoon scrapes the bowl, again, In the mundane rhythm of the everyday, Lies the weight of student pain. The world spins on, relentless, fast, As we stir the soup once more In the quest for knowledge, wisdom, growth, We find exhaustion, at its core. For the monotony of the chicken soup, Is but a mirror to our plight, As we seek solace in the learning, That fuels our inner light. Yet, in the depths of the weariness, Lies a resilience, strong and true, For though the soup may be monotonous, It nourishes, sustains, renews. So, we sip on, with hope and faith, Though the journey may be long, For in the broth of life's challenges, We find the strength to carry on. |