Poem to Myself

The crowds cheer,

The curtains fall,

Some of us tear,

While the rest of us bawl.

Hugs are exchanged,

Flowers are handed out,

Our futures are arranged,

Graduation is soon, no doubt.

The stage is home,

A place to be whoever you want to be,

Get ready and go roam,

It is your time to flee.

Senior year may be tough,

But adventure is out there to be found,

Don’t be afraid to try new stuff,

Your heart is becoming southbound.

Leaving your friends may be hard,

Leaving your family is definitely worse,

It will no longer be a familiar schoolyard,

A new place at which you will have to immerse.

So gather up your hope,

Say goodbye to the ones you love,

At first, it may be hard to cope,

But I promise you’ll fit just like a glove.