Out they come in their thousands
Their hopes in their bags
Expectations mill out in ecstacy
At last orientation time is come
-and then is gone.

Now the hope is dashed
Out in the den of the lion
As the ever-ravenous predator
Sucks in the unsespecting preys
With the monster leering down on them.

Now they trample the endless nooks
Amidst the cities the endless streets
Their shoes now lay in tatters
As they finally beg for bread
with the monster gleefully lurring them on.

And the certificates in their bags?
Ah!they lie in idleness
Great ingenuities marooned in prisons
The progenies of the light of the land
Now unable to find the light
As pretenders lay claim to their inheritance

Yes,talents abound in them
Lo,they have no godfather!
yea,geniuses thrive among them
Lo,they have no backbone
-like lost pilotless ships
In the midst of the raging storm.

Yet,yearly the trumpets sounds
And out in their thousands they come again
To to take their turn in procession
Like sheep awaiting the slaughter
To have a go on the fat of the land
-a taste of unemployment.