Bittersweet Lasts

There once was a girl who lived in St. Paul,

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and not very tall.

Fifth grade she switched schools from public to charter,

And quickly decided that charter was harder.

She attended a movie night shy and alone,

But left with a friend feeling like it was home.

A year filled with adventures and lots of new things:

Pugs, princesses, green clubs, the joy a friend brings.

One of her friends, dressed in heels and some fur

Declared she was a royal and ruled over her.

The boy she now dates used to kick all her trees

The more she got angry, the more he would tease.

Homework was new to her, wordly wise packets

Were always turned in late and caused quite a racket.

She was often in trouble for reading in class

And one time for saying she’d kick someone’s...butt.

Catered school lunches from Chipotle and B-Dubbs

And pizza, much better than other school’s grub.

Walking to gym wasn’t just down the hall,

It was outside and up hills, whether winter or fall.

Sixth grade a new building and plenty of classmates,

A parking lot playground: few toys, lots of gates.

A gym filled with pillars and carpeted floors,

Liz Claiborne at lunch time with heavy wood doors.

She wrote lots of stories and read some as well,

But ultimately thought Alex Rider was swell.

She and her friend wished they could both be

Just like Alex Rider, it was all they could see.

They watched the movie twice in one night

Which one he’d like better was an ongoing fight.

They played Apples to Apples with the head of the school

On grey rainy afternoons, to do so seemed cool.

She ran her first mile and got thirteen-o-eight

The slowest she’s ever ran the mile to date.

She blamed it on hills and the heat of the day,

But honestly folks she just walked the whole way.

Another new building, this time was the one,

Brought seventh grade in under bright autumn sun.

New classmates and lockers and lights overhead

Happy to bury the ‘moving school’ dred.

A new group of friends came with the new grade,

But also with them came a crazy charade.

Her Great Grandma Alice said ‘Wisely pick friends,

‘Cause birds of a feather is usually the trend.’

She didn’t believe those old fashioned notions,

Though every decision set the words into motion.

She couldn’t date boys ‘til the age of sixteen,

But she had her first boyfriend at only fourteen.

They said they were dating but actually they

Just talked on the phone for hours a day.

You can’t call it dating ‘cause they never hung out,

Never went to the movies, and never ate out.

It wasn’t all bad and she had lots of fun,

Although her homework was still never done.

One of her best friends she used to hate

For crying whenever her grades were not great.

She fell out of her chairs at least once a day

‘You’re probably just growing’ her mother would say.

At first she believed her, and really was wanting

To grow a few inches in a world tall and daunting.

Five feet and four inches seemed very small

And it didn’t help that her friends were all tall.

She’s still rather short and still she hasn’t grown

But all her friends have so she’s all alone.

They took a class trip and flew out to DC

Museums, and statues and history to see.

They thought they were so cool and really mature

All of their freedom helped that vision for sure.

They didn’t listen when visiting sites

And watched tv and texted late into the night.

She wishes now that she could go to the past

And pay more attention than when she went last.

Seventh and Eighth grade were almost the same

Not very exciting, and mostly all tame.

Oh! Except for the part where her friends all did drugs,

Though she clung to the motto: ‘Pugs and not drugs.’

She never did them, and hasn’t to date

Although it seems to be marked on her slate,

People assumed that just 'cause she was friends

With those kids meant she would have the same trends.

Her great grandma's words seemed to be coming true,

Apparently, somehow, her grandmother knew

That who you hung out with affected your life

And could cause lots of damage, and cause lots of strife.

Despite all that she managed to have some fun,

And really at times she felt like she had won,

Yes she knew her friends were not all that great

She just thought making those changes could wait.

She still was quite clumsy and fell off her chairs,

And then once or twice, she fell down the stairs.

Looking back now she was kind of a mess,

But then in the moment she couldn't care less.

Ninth grade started high school and down went her grades

To her it seemed that her future was made.

She favored her social life over her schooling

And life with her family quickly was cooling.

She and her parents argued all day

And all through the night, there was no time for play.

Her friends left the school and her great grandpa died,

She couldn’t feel happy, as hard as she tried.

Ninth grade she gave up on herself and her future.

And nothing she did took her out of that stupor.

She gave up on working and going to college

She gave up on hoping and her love for knowledge.

A mixture of feelings, and she couldn’t express

The good or the bad in that awful mess.

She didn’t know how to say what she was feeling

And so she just struggled with no chance of healing.

Her friends all urged her to go and find out

If something was wrong, and why she’d act out.

Tenth grade she does not remember much save,

The feeling of drowning in an unseen wave.

Feelings overwhelmed her, and she finally decided

To take back her life and quit being misguided.

She left her old friends and struck out on her own

Though it wasn’t long before new friend seeds were sown.

She began to feel happy and more easy going

Her belief in herself, over time, it was growing.

She finally got with a good group of friends,

Just as the year was coming to an end.

She learned what it was like to have some good chums,

Who you could rely on whatever may come.

Junior year was the hardest when it came to school,

The homework load almost made some of them drool.

She failed that years math class, pre-calc with trig,

And didn't quite realize that issue was big.

She just didn’t care about doing her homework,

A fact that happened to drive her mother berserk.

She scraped by the year in awful condition,

Passing her classes became her one mission.

Senior year is a year that is all about lasts,

The lasts of your firsts and the last of your lasts.

Yesterday night was her last dance class ever,

Something that she had been doing forever.

She took her last AP test the Friday before,

And in July she’ll get her last AP score.

Looking at Seniors you may think that they,

Have it all together like it’s child’s play.

I’m here to tell you that this is not true,

Most of them actually don’t know what to do.

You might think you’re ready for this day to come,

But as much as it’s happy its also quite glum.

Be prepared to leave parts of you behind,

And as you go forward keep an open mind.

There once was a girl who lived in St. Paul,

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and not very tall.

A new part of her life she’s about to begin,

So, though bittersweet, she’ll leave with a grin.