High School Haikus
- John Larsen '17
- Nov 2, 2016
- 1 min read
Freshman Year
First day of high school,
Who will I be when I leave?
Anticipation. . .
Sophomore Year
Each day I pass by,
Knowing familiar faces.
I am halfway there.
Junior Year
Pressure is mounting.
Sleep becomes a luxury.
Faith is all I have.
Senior Year
My final school bell,
Disrupts my musing question,
Who have I become?
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