Locker 35

A poem I wrote reminiscing on my sophomore year as the summer began.

Time for summer
It's kind of a bummer
I'll try to make it through
The best memory was you

A tattered stage
Not acting my age

An echoing gym
The lights are dim

Exchanged words in dodgeball
The love birds in study-hall

Emotional negations
And math equations

Morning classes
And hall passes

Slamming lockers
And two teen rockers

Frustrated teachers
And empty bleachers

Stomping shoes on stomped up floors
Squeaky markers on squeaky boards

Broken pencils and broken hearts
The "what-if's" that never could start

Fogged windows
And the rain outside
Droplets on the glass
Like many tears cried
Over drama and grades
And choices made

No more pretending
The year is ending
Summer is here,
This much is true.
But the best memory was you.

Junior year, here I come...