The term's undying buzz,
Carries on the wind in frenzied calls,
Undulating with the nervous pulse,
Of departing and remaining still.

What a gift to find a friend,
Who's just like you but not the same,
When talk of things flows free as water,
Where you pick each others brains to find the gold,
Why look beside when you can see,
How kind the Lord is to our souls,
To gift to us true brethren and a people that we didn't know.

Dusted done,
Completed quick,
And all has said its last for now,
Dusty falls will sprinkle anew,
And in time older hands will dust off again,
And pick up exams and maths galore,
And dusted done it shall be once more.