Come, my darling.
Climb to the top of Melancholy Hill with yours truly.
We'll count cellophane stars
While laying under plastic trees.
I'll play my sad guitar and you'll sing along,
My blue-haired blue friend.
Why do you look so sad?
I'll try my best to pull the corners of your mouth
Into a small smile.
I'll dare myself to lay the gentlest kiss
Upon your lips
Because I want your rhinestone eyes to shine;
Never stop shining.
I would swim across an ocean of toxic waste
To be with you on Plastic Beach
Atop Melancholy Hill
Counting cellophane stars
While laying under plastic trees.

Here's to the last four years.
To the English teacher that changed my way of thinking. Forever.
To the friends (and enemies) I've made along the way.
To the friends that left and the ones that stayed.
The ones that stayed up with me until all hours of the night
When I felt like everything was going to hell.

Here's to that innocent tenth grade fling.
To the feeling of falling in love for the very first time.
To the feeling of telling him how I felt over the phone.
To the feeling of him saying it back.
To performing onstage with friends and goofing off behind the curtain.
To all of the people who told me, "it's not worth it."

Here's to the Health teacher, who I have the utmost respect for.
To that band that I owe everything to.
To that boy who walked to my house in the freezing cold at 2 AM,
The one who ultimately broke me.
To the people who put me back together in the aftermath.
To that other boy who would never give up.

Here's to the times I've said "I hate this so much."
To the countless times I've skipped a day because I didn't want to get up.
To the choir teacher that everyone loved and looked up to.
To the choir that felt like a second family.
To the shy boy that I didn't include in the group project.
To the guilt I'll feel forever because of it.

Here's to the smiles, the tears, the fears, the stress.
To the people that helped me get a grip on reality.
To the boy that everyone poked fun at, the one I hugged everyday.
To the beautiful girl who made me tea and took me to Winter Homecoming.
To the three boys who hated me in eleventh grade.
To the boy laying dormant.

Here's to the girl who will think about all of this
And so much more when she walks across the stage.
Head held high, holding that piece of paper in her hands.
She's defeated a beast, she has.
She tosses her hat up in the air and lets out a cry of victory.
She's won. She's moving on to bigger and better things.

Thank you.