The Graduate

The walls that once crowded, fall away from the horizon.

Once death-defying sky scrapers, up high in the clouds,

Now normal two-story buildings, too vanilla for any shock.

A jail, restrictive and binding,

No one could want to leave more than me.

Thirteen years spent in a prison

Toiling away at subjects I didn’t care about,

Ever meet APUSH? It’s called death.

Ever meet Physics? It’s called death.

Ever meet Calculus? It’s called death.

It’s called death, death, death, death, death, death,

And maybe some boredom.

But it’s really called life and youth and childhood.

But the clock kept ticking and I kept checking the time as it went 5, 4, 3, 2, school’s out, we’re done,

When really I should’ve been looking around and making memories and connecting and talking and laughing and experiencing what it means to be a human and a student still in high school.

Because no one really knows what it’s like to miss high school

Until the stage is set and the curtain rises and you’re up to take the final bow amongst strangers you can barely even call friends.

Happy Graduation.