Let’s be honest, it’s definitely that time of year. I am referring to that time of year when this marathon called a semester is coming to a close—you have been racing since January, and you can finally see the finish line in the distance. The only problem? The finish line is on top of an enormous mountain encircled by a giant moat filled with carnivorous fish surrounded by a blazing gate of fire all guarded by a vicious three headed dragon...at least that’s how the last week of a semester can feel between the many stresses of finals, group projects, papers and whatever else professors decide to throw at you.

Everyone has their own methods to minimize stress during these last few weeks of school.

Some people go on runs, other people eat tons.

Many people don’t know it, but I pretend I’m a poet.

Writing short poems is my personal therapy for difficult situations. I know, I know, poetry has a bad reputation, but you have to understand when I say poetry, I am not referring to the stuffeth people wroteth a longeth timeth ago. To me, poetry is expressing how you feel using rhymes, analogies and other creative language. OK, maybe that explanation didn’t make poetry sound any cooler, but I’ve found that describing a situation this way usually simplifies a problem which makes it easier to conquer. Using this tool forces me to think of situations and adversity in a totally different way; I have found it is a great way to put certain things in perspective. I’m not recommending that you stop to write a poem every time you are upset, but give it a try when life pitches one of its fastest curve balls.

I wrote this poem after feeling like I had reached a dead end in life, but I soon realized that there were always new opportunities presenting themselves.

Plus, this poem is about seashells and seashells mean the beach and the beach means summer and summer means school is out. So, I hope you enjoy and remember to smile this week.

Life is the sea shells floating in the ocean,

Beautiful, unique, ever shifting in motion.

A seashell may be securely between your fingertips,

When suddenly a wave collapses and the seashell slips.

What once was known and fact to you is swept away so fast,

Leaving only what could have been and memories of the past.

Within this dreary question filled haze,

Life suddenly becomes a maze.

Each turn leads to a dead end,

A gaping hole on the mend.

Sometimes the water is as clear as instructions for a puzzle.

Other times, life's clouds form a smothering muzzle.

It is always easy to turn the world black,

What one cannot see, one cannot lack.

My challenge to you is to open your eyes,

Take a deep breath and soften your cries.

See the many shells carpeting the ocean floor,

Realize that life always opens another door.