Beeb.
The loud bell,
Buzzes,
In our ears,
As we fidget,
In the cold desks,
Waiting for class to start,
High school has began,
Finally.
Our minds churning,
Nervous,
Anxious,
Scared,
Yet,
Hopeful,
Excited,
Ready.
The classes go by,
Slowly,
Teachers lecturing,
And the shuffling,
Of papers being distributed,
Is all that is heard,
In the silence,
Of the blank classrooms.
Until,
We are relieved,
By the bell,
And the the next bell,
And the next,
As we join our fellow students,
In the crammed hallways,
Our shoulders aching,
From the heaviness of the books,
Trying not to be trampled,
By the tall,
Intimidating,
Seniors.
Late,
We arrive at our next class,
as we repeat the same thing,
As the class before.
The day is never-ending,
Each class,
A century,
Dragged out.
Beeb.
The bell sounds,
Once again,
For a final time.
A weight is lifted,
Off of our shoulders,
We have survived one day,
Just one day,
Of many more to come,
But it already feels like home.
Excitement fills our thoughts,
As we anticipate,
Our great,
High school adventure.
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