Thelast semester of high school
should be a joyful time
for nostalgicrememberings
of gleeful childhood times.

A time of bonding it shouldbe
for parent and for child,
a time for us to recognize
when life wascalm and mild.

And yet we find on rounding out
our seniorest ofyears,
our senior lives are vicious times,
it's grabbed us by theears.

I can't remember fighting with
my parents quite so much,
aswhen the college letters came.
They have the golden touch!

I can'tremember quite a time
I've been so lazy or so rude
or done so poorly in mystudies,
had such an attitude!

Apparently I have a knack
for singingout of tune
for putting elbows on the table
or wishing it wasJune.

The fact that all the light bulbs burned
out long agoindeed
is not due to short circuiting
but only due to me.

I run outall hot water that
this house ever had.
I whine about my work toomuch,
I make the milk go bad.

I waste my time on Internet
and otherfoolish things;
I spend too much on gas and clothes
and have a bathtubring.

My room is never clean enough,
my socks are never neat;
mymake-up takes up too much time,
my outfit's too complete.

I can't keeptrack of times and dates;
my planner's never used.
Whenever I go out atnight
my curfew is abused.

That the printer went berserk
is clearlydue to me.
I use up all the paper that
goes in it anyway.

You'dthink that these were loving times
without a single fight;
you'd think thatI could do no wrong,
instead I do no right!