The Haverhill Commons is in, in fact, not a commonplace at all,

But a very rare spot indeed;

For there are no pretty artifacts, unless made of cardboard and paper,

No diamonds or ore, 

No rare metals that make it a mine,

But, yes, it is a rarety of character,

Rarety in its attraction of NECC’s typical guests,

From the bowels of the halls do they chunder unto the entrance,

A tentative step replaced by a surer one,

Confidence placed in one’s heart at the sight of Kraft macaroni 

Or a tiny bag of black kettle Tea,

A homely little place,

And the music!

There’s no wonder,

That it is not unlikely for a new wanderer,

To go from traipsing to loitering to lounging,

More than an old couch potato, do they so grow on the spacious chairs,

The soft background music doing working more on them than any assignment they’ve done, 

The lovely staff stand and await,

To keep the peace or offer a joyous greeting,

Or look over a rough draft or 

Herd the scattered students into the newest workshop,

Oh, the events!

How could one miss them?

The posters crowd the walls, the chatter echoes throughout the halls,

Echoing and ricocheting off of the chambers of the classrooms,

Students must,

They must,

Ask themselves:

“What is going on?”

For this room, can go from an elevator pitch,

To a love poem open mic,

To a grand reception hall,

Full of feasting,

Free pizza and wild conversation aplenty,

Just the amount of conversation,

And pauses of silence in between,

For poor chaps filling in that last-minute essay or

The casual printerer asking for an 8 x 11 in.,

‘What could I say about this room?’

Well, I think I’ve said plenty. 

I love it,

God bless it.”