My joking semi-seriously view of high school, before graduation. |
Tears from the wasted years forgotten and frozen, streaming from above, the memories come like pictures one by one. The years we’ll never get back, the years that were lost to the storm. The years that were stolen from us by the thieving counselors. All of our time consumed by mindless homework and the drone of lecturing teachers. The time we could have spent exploring the world, one town at a time. The time we spent walking to class could have been spent in museums learning about our history. The minutes, the hours we spent in lunch all four years wasted. Those wasted time spans could have been spent finding the cure for cancer, running a marathon or going fishing. Our minds were like robots, never functioning freely. All the years stolen from us by our corrupted government. Those years vanish before our eyes. Test days fly by, tardies building up. Detentions and saturday schools become routine, and attendance in class is virtually nonexistent. The years we were held captive were far too long, and extended by one persons ability to screw up tradition. The prison cells locked for one last day. our years dying slowly. The tears fly, the years forgotten and frozen in time. The years are a quick flip scrap book thrown on a shelf. a new book is coming. The years behind us are forever over, only the years to come stand in our way. Freedom is here. Dream like theres no tomorrow, and march on brave senior, march on. |