He came to me, my college son,
To tell me things that he had learned.
It wasn’t how to pay his way,
For self-support he’d always spurned.

He said they taught the sun would die
In just four hundred million years.
I could see why he was concerned,
And so I understood his fears.

He had no worries of success,
Or how some day he’d make his mark.
I knew that he was most concerned,
Of graduating in the dark.