School is coming to a close,
Excitement is looming the air,
About the oncoming summer adventures,
But sad about leaving our lives,
As middle school students behind,
And what we have grown close to.
The comfort in the similarities,
The same halls,
The same classes,
The same teachers,
Things won't be the same,
We will be high school students.
Everything will be different
Different halls,
Different classes,
Different teachers.
The question of the unknown,
Bring nervousness to our faces.
Yet nervous, we are all excited,
About the new things,
We as high students,
Will be privileged to experience.
Dances,
New friends,
New looks,
New relationships,
All new, yet thrilling.
The last day of middle school,
Sure to be an emotional one.
Tears rolling down our faces,
Reality has hit us.
We are leaving the things we love,
Behind to face a new journey.
I know this is a sentiment shared by nearly all of us, save those who won't be leaving. One of the things that I take comfort in is that you have all had some fond memories, some joy you leave behind. Middle school years are tough ones, and to know that I was one of the teachers lucky enough to work here and make this an environment that respected you as an individual, that cared about you as an individual, and that it was at least to some extent a success, is a great comfort. Thanks for the poem.
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