The Junior Gamble

Caffeine fueling me
As numbers dictate my life
Like dirty gambles
In riverboat casinos,
I brew my future with chips.

These chips have gone stale
Pale; just choose like the lion
Armored with a score
Saracen bolts are replaced
By color, the chips are down

The pot has come to
A head, brewing our future
In just a little
We will be forced to drink it
Like fine wine, we are bouqueted

Evaluation
The key to our salvation
Is also the door.
In front of the connoisseurs
Our labels draw attention

All faults can be hid
Behind a glossy package
"Yes, I can compute,
Translate Latin gods to men
Wave a pen with razzmatazz.
  
Razzles dazzle them;
Even if you're reach-me-downs
All is justified
Uncorked the application
Flows freely to the critics

Success is looming
As hopes are turned to the weft
Left behind, you find
You've jumped all the rest:
Application's back, and ivy-wrapt.
  


Ivy leaves in your
Eyes; Leagues long you, sugared, rise
The aged glimmer
Of well-worn stone beguiles
Your cup sweetened with success

But in the ivy
Stalks the most dreaded, price tag
It flies to bite your
Lion-sized pockets; welcome,
Collegiate inebriate