poor orange.

like an old, shrivelled orange, coarsely sliced in half
then squeezed thoroughly, first the right then the left
until every drop is wrung out, all the pulp, each seed;
then pressed some more, its yield not satisfying.
so it is with my brain, my worn out mind:
drained, dry... but still, i need
juice.

we did epic similes in lit class today.
i'm beat.