I hate the way you make me stress,
To the point where I don’t wash my hair.
I hate the way you give me parking tickets on my car,
And how it’s so crowded that I have to study on the stairs.
I hate your big dumb blue books,
and the way you exhaust mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick;
But I’ll keep studying until I die.
I hate the way I’m never right,
I hate it when you ask, “Why?”
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it that these are my final finals,
and the fact that you won’t be around in the Fall.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
(Well, maybe just a little.)

-written by Doris Su.