Senior Year

Another day opens with the crack of dawn, filled with so much potential.

Seniors awake from groggy slumber, sometimes with a goal in mind.

But as the day unravels and the laziness begins to set in, motives become deferred by meaningless chatter and long dull lectures. 

Soon there is nothing left but a tall leaning tower of work and a lack of motivation.

Deadlines whizz pass our heavy heads as we try to lift them out of a heavy trance called "Senioritis". 

The beginning of the end is so very close yet too far for satisfaction, just like the weekend and every school break is --almost touchable yet too far away to feel its calming texture. 

You realize that the plastic tasting cafeteria food isn't the only thing fake, as friends being to drift away. 

Then suddenly and abruptly with a flash of white gowns and a flicker of a camera flash, it all ends.

And just like that, you have a new battle to fight --the real adult world. 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741