Sometimes the monster rears its head
Some days I can’t get out of bed
Grey mornings and I feel the dread
But no more wishes to be dead.
There are times when I see the hole
The pit the chasm in my soul
But it has shrunk like washed-out wool
The empty ice is now just cool.
I think I’ll always feel the weight
The steepest cliff of would-be fate
But I don’t peek over the edge
My two feet are far from the ledge.
Folake Sobogun: Putting Love into Catering at LSE
In the final Flipside interview of this academic year, Emma interviews Folake Sobogun, the assistant catering manager at Carr-Saunders, to explore how life at LSE residence halls unfolds behind the counter, in the dining hall.
