six years in the making
put a liter of tears and toil
cost a million minutes of stress
and thousands of sleepless night

                         All will gonna be paid off tonight

six tiring years in the making
friendships come and go
but treasured ones are my four girls
been there through smooth and rough, but now

                         All will gonna be paid off tonight

six difficult years in the making
great part is learning knowledge
but the best is gaining wisdom
and the highlights are the shared memories

                          All will gonna be paid off tonight

six years of almost quitting
reason to stop believing: not found
been on the edge of farewell
few more inches before

                          All are paid off tonight

six years of hard work
none will be in vain
all the tears and pain
will turn into a beautiful gain
                              
                         When all were paid off tonight. :')

Here today

Here we sit

Amongst our friends

Our fellow classmates

Parents

Teachers and staff

It’s hard but…

Now that so much time has passed

We must admit

The highs and lows

Of these four years

Came and went

Beginning to end

Our time here went by so very quick

As for our teachers

They only know

How in the beginning,

We may have been dim

But with their support

We began to glow

So we would  like to say thanks

Because of you

We’re now able to burn brightly

All on our own

Because of you

Who knows the journeys we’ll travel

Or the places we’ll go

These four years may not have been easy

But that's made us stronger

That's helped us grow

To ourselves and our teachers

We now owe

A continued pursuit of excellence

On the paths we take

And for others

The paths we chose

It’s our turn now

To be the future

It is to the whole world that we must show

The skills we've learned and the knowledge we've earned

It is our time now to take the first steps

Towards our destiny

With our own two feet

For us to do what we have to do

For those of you with heavy hearts

And for those who feel this is the end of a small part of your life

It’s true

But it’s also a new start

Because…

In our own two hands is a fate in which we are holding

As we’re getting older

As we are growing

One by one

Our fingers begin unfolding

leaving hand prints on history

Touching hearts and minds

On the road to our destiny

We must now leave some friends behind

But do not be saddened

Do not fret

For they too

Have roads that they must find

We now all have one great mountain that we must conquer

That we must climb

Do not dare give in

Don’t dare give up

They are our own two hands

We must now guide ourselves to that mountain top

We may make mistakes

We may fall

But because of our time here

We’ve learned to rise again

To stand tall

I hope you enjoyed your years here as much as I did

And as you begin the next step of your lives

I wish the best of luck to you all.

I have been invisible before.
My thoughts and justifications were transparent.
All anyone could see were my actions;
the way I failed and stumbled,
and ran head first into doors that lead me down path after path of distraction.
At least they seemed like distractions,  
oh, but they become my destruction. 


I spent my time quietly imploding,
only to change my mind last minute,
and suddenly explode.
I changed my mind,
but my body stayed stock still.
I stood in front of the judges
and while my tongue was granite,
the urge to run from the podium had never been greater.

I wished to be invisible.
I wished to go to a dark corner of the room and finish my implosion.
Out of sight,
where I could hide and self destruct without a sound.

And then if,
or when,
I picked up the shrapnel,
I could re-join everyone on stage at graduation.

I could hold my head high
and with a smile,
pretend no one saw me crumble.

You can hear the rain as it gathers
Soaked cosmopolitan soldiers in the gravel,
Complaining of urban trenchfoot.
Those stars on their hands, declarations of evil
Felt the roughed hands of homeless men
Asking, “where you gonna be next week?”
And other cherries of vagabond greetings
Of his situational pleasantries;
The kids couldn’t say:
Topics avoided are done so the loudest—

That old man who’s friends with the devil
Lying infirm, walking infirm, his only guests are strangers
I hear his didacticisms from long ago
Curtailing the copper snakes despite their promise of knowledge
Good or evil
Because life is too short to be more than just friends.

Everyone works at least one day on the jakes
At the desk at day’s end
At plaster fist on the rivers in tar
Where Rat-prophets have their
Schizoid visions peaking in fright
To a starlit bible-edge clatter and smash
Shaking and roiling, denimized
Words pinpointing you down
Assembly-lined out by the smirking madman

Capital, he says, capital, capital
Looking out on our heads graduated heads
Cap it all, cap them all,
Jagged and four-squared edge
Happy enough to dogpaddle in a maelstrom
Called Sallie Mae
And to forget ‘graduation’ means ‘to rise’
These ocean floors, dark and darkening.

Yet, his debt crushes him for lack of want,
Chicanery and shady deals
Mine’s a blessing, a burden of love;
The brochure is a better read—

Where am I going to be next week?
Recalling the difference
Between indebted and dead
Recalling the difference
Between a ton of feathers and that of lead.

We were a dandilion
Together we grew
Seperated by the wind
To begin our new lives

Clumps together
They fell in patches
Yet i sit alone
No where to call home

School commencements looming;
Bands and grads are tuning,
Moving from room to room
On this last day in June.

From womb to pre-school
Kids migrate,
To elementary/high school dissipate;
Trade schools, colleges,
And universities await,
Punch the clock at the workplace gate.
Summer vacation helps make the break.
But make no mistake,
The last day of school is just for show,
I hope they're schooled enough to know.
The last day of school is just a term
Rightly debunked during life's sojourn:
Ahead there's still life-long learning.

Graduation Speech Soup

The key that unlocks the road to the future
Blazing a trail for a torch that lights the way
For memories that will be treasured forever -
Oh, the places you will go – like Wal-Mart

There has never been a class just like you
Not since last year, anyway, so go forth
And more filler about memories goes here
You are the future, just like every class

Blah-blah, blah-blah, blah-blah, blah-blah, blah-blah

And now as you go your separate ways
Please just forget this catalogue of cliches’

Exist

I am a whisper in the current of time.
I am a lonely voice in a choir of billions.
I am a single note in the symphony of the universe.

The Aztecs believed that one died 3 times.
Once, when their body stopped functioning, another, when one’s body is laid in the ground, and finally, when the last person on Earth passes, or forgets one’s story.

One day, my story will fade like a breath on a cold day.
One day, my story will be buried under the infinite amount of stories to come.
One day, my story, like the final note of a song, will cease to ring.

But even though my story will eventually come to pass, it existed.

We existed.

Our joys, our struggles, our smiles, our tears - our experiences; existed.
Though there are many stories happening at the present moment, and you have a story of your own, in my story, you play a lead role.

So maybe in the grand scheme of the universe, we are small and insignificant,
But never, for a single second, doubt that you matter in someone’s life.

In my own, you will, and will always be, a part of it.