To 2015 - 2016
To Fall 2015
A Brief Social Satire

By Meredith McCain

  1. Untitled
    By Dale Kerem, 12
Desperation is all I feel
Mixed with an aching heart
All this pain, I think I might’ve
Been struck with a poison dart
But this is no skin-deep wound
This is a tragic incision
Deeply cut and precisely made
With each faulty decision
To think I might’ve loved you
For you I would have died
But you turned your back on me;
I only blame your pride
I love you, I need you
You are my only hope
Without you in my life
I’ll wind up poor—no—broke
Ugh—how disgusting
Who needs a man to survive?!
No, not at all,
Most certainly not I
Just look at him, the way he saunters about
He disdains us all, without a doubt
Just look at the way he stares at me so
So dark, so judgmental,
He is the hunter, and I, the doe
Does he have a tender part in his soul?
Or has he steadfastly made it his singular goal
To insulate himself from these lower classes
To mock and to ridicule
The undesirable masses
No, I shan’t say that I am prejudiced
I judge only from experience;
My judgment is definite
I fear not if he knows
Let me tell it to his face!
I despise all of him
From his head to--his toes!
Oh no, there he goes,
He’s about to propose
What in the world?!
Who would’ve supposed
That so proud a man
Could admire a girl so prejudiced
This day in history
Ought to take precedence.
What do I do? Do I laugh, do I yell?
Do I say what I most desire?
That he burn for eternity in hell!
He hurt the ones dearest to me
Sweet Jane and handsome Wickham
(In my opinion) This is cause enough
To reject his scornful plea.
Oh, look, right there, I’ve said enough!
He finally takes my leave,
I can’t help but feel a little flattered
By the offer I’ve received.
And now here’s a letter, and what does it say?
I pour over its contents at least half a day
I guess he’s not as bad as I thought?
But his actions remain inexcusable;
His apologies amount to naught!
Numerous fortnights have passed
Since that absurd day
I wander about Pemberley
When suddenly, he stands in my way.
An embarrassed, stilted greeting
Is all I manage to mutter
He is all out of sorts too
He stands and stammers and stutters.
A changed man he is!
How courteous and obliging
I find his mannerisms
Extremely surprising.
That he should condescend
To talk to my kind!
The conversation is awkward
But the flattery is sublime!
A sunny day soon after,
The letter arrives,
Oh, stupid Lydia!
Yet somehow, I’m not surprised.
Between my mother’s ill breeding
And my sister’s foolish mistake
He’ll never love me again!
And his love had been mine to take!
I’ve accepted that I’m
of inferior stock,
With problems aplenty,
To disdain and to mock,
I feel quite the fool
So high on my prejudice
But his pride was inexcusable
And I was a pessimist.
But then--I discover,
His great sacrifice!
That magnificent wonder,
My beloved acolyte!
He must still love me,
It must be so,
My heart swells with joy,
My sentiments grow.
To hell with Lady Catherine!
No lady is she!
For forbidding love,
For censuring me.
I ignore her hard-headed plea.
I hold on to hope
That he’ll return soon
And then, one day,
Right before noon
He arrives, we walk,
The proposal is made,
Such gratitude I feel,
I’m happier than Jane!
I needed no man
Until I met thee
We defied all the odds,
My dear Fitzwilliam Darcy.