All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Catterpiller and The Butterfly
Sitting here gazing up at that same old star
I begin to wonder how I made it this far
Memories flooding my distant mind
The tears I have aren’t far behind
All the things we’ve done and had
Not all good, but not all bad
The hot summer nights riding in the back of that old jeep
And how much fun we would have when one of us began to fall asleep
Those long nights of endless giggling and laughter
And all those stories that constantly ended with a happily ever after
The silly little songs and happy little rhymes
As I sit here now I begin to miss all those old times
When I leaned to ride my two wheeled bike
And that first instant I saw that boy I use to like
The summers at the lake
And fall time with the giant piles of leaves that took endless hours to rake
That time when I was so small, I had learned what death meant
The soft sobs and the way my poor little smile bent
These old photographs cannot only say a thousand words, but a million more
Each picture holds a memory, a story that’s sealed behind a door
Oh if only these old walls could speak
They would tell you a story that would make even the strongest man weak,
Sitting here I find myself wiping away straying tears from my eyes
That small child I once was surfaces and cries
I miss all those memories and times we’ve all shared and had
I’ll never regret them good, horrible, or sad
As I grow old the collection I’ve stared will expand
And on graduation day, as I approach my friends and stand
At the starting line for the rest of my life, a future yet to be scribed
The emotions I feel cannot be described
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.