The 12th year of high school,

What did it bring?

For sure not a day to loiter at the pool,

Nor the feeling of a diamond ring.


Let’s discuss IB first.

Oh what a painful drag.

Like being stranded in a desert, dying of thirst,

Whilst shackled to a cackling hag.


Practices, exams and internal assessments,

Couple that with countless requirements and nights of no sleep,

So torturous in fact, in my heart they left dents.

Oh why International Baccalaureate, my sanity I wish to keep!


It was the year I got my first job.

I should mention that my second one I got as well.

They are where I met people of the real world: Lacys and Bob.

And where I gained experience and responsibility as I hope you can tell.


It was the year I learned who my true friends are

And drew on the courage to stand up for others as well as myself.

A year of ups and down, of spontaneity like hanging your head out the car,

In order to live without regrets within oneself.


Most importantly, it was the year of coming into my own,

The beginning of a great discovery in me.

Of my strengths, my weaknesses and my hope to reap what I have sown,

Just look towards the future and you’ll see.


The anxiousness awakens at what lies ahead.

Because what will happen tomorrow or next month to no one is too keen.

Just hold on, sit back and ride life like a sled.

We’ve got this, Class of 2015!



©Deborah Asaolu, 2015.

This poem is about: 
My community


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