pens tapping on the wooden desks
click click click
crumpled up sheets of paper
sharp nails across the surface of books
whispers and nudges and silent moans
thumping fists on the table
the ticking of old clocks counting down the inevitable
tick tick tick
frantic scratching of the pens across sheets
the overwhelming smell of agony and anticipation
the last word

and just like that
it’s over
twelve years of waking up at 5 am and catching the school bus
walking through the gates of hell and wishing satan a good morning
getting along with your fellow miscreants
homework, assignments, tests, lessons
facing your fears and passing notes during class
bruises playing sports
scars falling in love

and like that,
you’re a high school graduate
it’s over.

One Comment Add yours

  1. pasteltears101 says:


    Liked by 1 person

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