Senior Year Poem by Russell Beaty

Senior year
In the month of May
Only one more month I shout, I say

12 years of torment,12 years of glee
As it comes to the end I wish to flee

The tempest I’ve ridden to the end
From the happy beginning through a treacherous bend

But during the travel learned have I
The question of who I am and above all why

From the smell of the grass to the sounds of the bell
School isn’t prison it’s surely not hell

Then a question is posed why we are here
The answer is simple but is not always clear

It’s for the experience more than the work
It’s to see how you deal with friends and the jerks

It’s to prepare you for life so you don’t fall on your face
It’s also to have fun and to have people you can embrace

Senior year
In the month of June
Celebration in the Afternoon