2 Months before School year end,
And 2 days before our possible end,
The Pressure is high,
And the Hope is low,

How can one survive the one final blow?
Two last?
No Three last,
The Four Humps on the Road,

Either we jump towards the challenges of life,
Or fail to do so as anxiety runs with us,
And Hope is, flickering in the air,
But hopes only that flicker would be enough to light the road,
To see the hurdles quickly,
To guide ourselves,
For us to live our life fully in the future,
How can one survive the final blow?

no longer in the safety of these decorated walls
say goodbye to friendly faces in these crowded high school halls

these people were like family for four metamorphic years
the guidance of the teachers subsided tides of crystal tears

hidden in the chrysalis of the freedom of young age
do not forget this chapter as you turn to the next page

the transformation is complete
the chrysalis bursts
we have now been banished to the real world

Dear Brother,

I was struggling.
Anxiety attacks and utter insecurity,
The pit in my stomach was a permanent crater
But I saw you
At recess, standing on the blacktop alone
And I forgot about myself

They told you you couldn’t play football with them.
Your limp was horrible, you didn’t understand the rules exactly
Boys running up to tap me on the arm
Yelling “Get him away from me”
“Tell him to leave me alone”
How am I supposed to tell my brother no one wants to be his friend
No one wants to talk to you Ryan because they can’t understand what you’re saying
They don’t even want to try.

Everyday the school called home, he’s hopeless
Detentions for yelling at the teacher,
The one who didn’t bother to notice he was trying
And he did try too, so hard
So hard he came home calling himself stupid
Because that is all he summed up to at the glories of public highschool

Mom cried, and Dad tried to give her hope
That someday people would treat you right
And I prayed that I wouldn’t keep hearing kids mutter your name in the hallways
Completely unknowing that you were my brother
And all the times your frustration built,
Holes in the wall and broken door frames
I never ever blamed you.

Now we stand side by side at graduation
And I want you to know,
I couldn’t be more proud of us.
Dear brother,
You will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me

High school graduate,
you look down, I gasp,
I am not wearing my heels!

We were raised by your many hands
To hold and guide us all
No other fool understands
The strife behind our fall

Wooden walls that form around my bed,
Laughing at something my roommate said
I see way too many faces in the day;
They're all the same, nothing changed from yesterday.

These paths they've kissed my feet.
We weren't allowed to cross the street.
We joke about it being a jail,
But to be honest I wouldn't pay that bail

It gets old,
But wouldn't trade it for gold.
I know that these people, they love me.
But out of everyone, baby
You cooked me up this recipe
To believe in destiny.

Winter's always that coldest up North.
Walking outside was always a force.
Your hand was the only warmth that I wanna feel.
Coming back from spring break, that feeling was unreal.

The springtime came and the rain fell.
We know our hearts, they were parallel.
Our love's on track for the end.
Teachers knew we were more than friends.

It gets old,
But wouldn't trade it for gold.
I know that these people, they love me.
But out of everyone, baby
You cooked me up this recipe
To believe in destiny.

Now we're eighteen and out of here.

I've fallen in love with Self-Deprecation.
I found her teetering the edge
of Self-Destruction

Testing Her limits with every acquaintance.

She lets Her life hang in the doorframe
either land on her feet
or the knot takes Her name

Teasing bad decisions with Svedka soaked sexts.

I've fallen in love with inception.
I left Self in an echo of a room
against cement bricks of incarceration.

As our time draws to a close,
Cherished times from my memory flows,
From p.e with Mrs. to religion class,
"My- how the time did pass!"

For years I'd called this place home,
With the greatest family ever known,
Who're with me through and thin,
To thank you- I can't begin.

Right now I would like to recall,
Those times when we were small,
Fr. McDonald remember pointing a sword at me
Yelling 'you' as the snow you'd seen?

To those who are no longer here,
I'd like to make this clear,
Even though you no longer see
I still consider you as family.

So much has changed with much time,
In this blessed place of mine,
When we were fairies in 7th grade,
To daughters, who-for crimes paid.

So I'll thank you once again,
As our time must now end,
From here into the world we'll go,
"From your teachings we must grow!"

We'll never forget what we received here,
For had the thought not appeared,
To this day we'd of never arrived,
Nowhere else could we of thrived!