Here’s to all of the sleepness nights, with more to come,
to bloodshot eyes, and all 4 years blurred together.
With faculty members holding us back, we feel tethered.
To our GPA’s, college letters, and days that are numbered,
Our teachers help us, but we still feel encumbered.
The weekly panic attack, accompanied by tears and crying,
We wonder, is this what it feels like to slowly be dying?
Numbers start to mean more then just math class,
most of these characters determine my future somehow.
We are being broken, and bent
not sure when it will end.
Monday through thursday from eight to four
It feels like is never ending, forevermore.
All the homework, sports, and extracurriculars have been tough,
These four long years have obviously been rough.
Though it may not seem like it now, and times have been bumpy,
We are going to keep going and not be grumpy.
Benoit11 