After these four years end

After summer vacation disappears

After the last proms, plays, rallies, and games

Where are we supposed to go?

-

If college doesn’t call

And jobs are hard to find

And travel is impossible

What are we supposed to do?

-

For some of us, the leaving is hard.

Far too hard to comprehend and

We return to walk the halls in silence

Where else are we supposed to go?

-

We need to touch the ugly lockers

Surround ourselves with bright posters

Smell the stale air and textbooks once more

What else are we supposed to do?

For my best friend Alyssa who misses high school more than anyone I’ve ever met. I don’t miss it, but I can understand why she does.