Writing201 Day 10: Future, Sonnet, Chiasmus

At eight, a future wondrous and bright;
Sixteen, less certain, but no less exciting
Now twenty-three, no fortune in my sight
My future undetermined, unknown and uninviting

If greatness is to make some late arrival
Then let it come to end this fruitless chore!
My future is a game of chance and survival
Survival and chance; rejections build up ever more

University was such an easy choice to make
Yet now I work from nine ’til two cleaning bedrooms
Every application ending in some foolish mistake

I question how much longer I’ll be doomed
To continue on outside of a graduate position
Once so bright, my future now in intermission

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