I see that freedom isn’t so far away,
It will come in the middle of May.
Graduating with my fellow friends,
Bitter sweet; our years have come to an end.

From freshmen to senior,
The years never became any easier.
Morning routines we invented to uphold,
Slowing constructing into another broken mold.

Defining ourselves off our decisions,
Straining to not finish with mountains of collisions.
Only time will bring you close,
Remember to think of what matters the most.

Day by day you struggle to get by,
In the hallways you feel as if you could fly.
It’s the end that makes you realize what you will truly miss,
But the feeling of freedom is the true bliss.

By May we will be gone,
It’s our time to leave and move on.
It’s their turn to take over the school,
Here comes the new seniors, thinking they’re so cool.