(Sincere apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.
I loathe thee to the depth and breadth and height
My fingers can stroke, when feeling out of sorts
For the ends of being a depressed overworked student.
I loathe thee to the level of every day’s
Most hated practice, by sun and candle-light.
I loathe thee freely, as men shun what’s right.
I loathe thee purely, because I turn from praise.
I loathe thee with the passion put to use
In my old theory book, and with my lack of faith.
I loathe thee with a loathing I seemed to share
With many lost classmates. I loathe thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my schooling; and, if God choose,
I shall but loathe thee better after graduation.