Goodbye High School
Today I finished dismantling my life, and fitting it into little packages, ready to be shipped away. One bolt, one board, one relationship at a time I have turned everything I know into something that could be taken with me. Everyone I know has found a place in my heart (surprising, yes) and memories of them will live on inside of me for as long as I have the ability to reminisce. Some have taken a bigger spot, some have taken a smaller one, but there is room for everyone.
I still remember my first day of high school: grade 9, semester 2. Question: “Artem Kaznatcheev?” answer: “Here” followed by a wave of heads turning to see me. Yes, I was really a person, not just a cleric error that put a random name on five attendance sheets in semester one. I was a real person, and I was back from
Sadly, I must say goodbye, as much as I hate to do it. There is no avoiding it; there is no procrastinating until it seizes to exist. I am an adult now, and I have to say goodbye. Some people will be closer than others in University (I’m looking at you Yunjun), some will be farther away. Still, I will remember everybody.
I have traveled all my life, leaving many behind, I have grown accustomed to inconsistence… change. Today is the first time that saying goodbye actually hurt. However, I am all packed and ready to go. I guess I will include two poems, because I feel like it, and I once thought they were good. (Posted in order of being written)
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Grade 12
No matter how agog you objurgate
You’ll not silence the cheerful knell of times
But with mal spirit you can desecrate
The youth within as your adulthood chimes
Yet, you can’t abscond your obligation
To go from child to man and back again
For you’ll always need shards of your creation
As the effulgence of life begins to drain
And no matter how stoic your aberration
You will not find true meaning in your age
As your mind fumbles graduation
You’ll see both pain and joy in every page
The years engraved like marble silhouette
The question lingers: “Am I grown up, yet?”
Re-Thought
My thoughts are wandering. Like beggar’s feet
they take me to the slums. Like beggar’s hands,
past memories reproach until they meet,
rub close for warmth and reprimands.
Repent, regret, rebuff. My retrospect,
like beggar’s mind, it elevates me past
my proper place. But I cannot reject,
upon review, the thoughts my mind amassed.
My wits still follow me. Like beggar’s eye
they judge and plea. With time, like beggar’s word
they beckon me, to listen to them cry
about how past events will be recurred.
But just like beggars on the edge of light
my thoughts can be hidden out of sight
Congratulations, it’s a beautiful tomorrow
When I set foot inside these halls, gained entry
with my books, my hopes; protruding from in-
side the bag I bore since Elementary;
Back then I did not think that deep within
I brought my fears and not just all my grins.
A fear of life, a fear of death, some fears
of fear itself and of the deadly sins
that could devour me throughout four years
Now that I graduate, I know more ways
with which to paint the things I feared at dawn.
And still I bear that same old sack. A daze,
it’s empty: the books are gone, hopes moved on.
But all my fears were purged as well and in-
stead of them I’ll birth tomorrow without sin.
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