High school, I remember

Teenagers scurrying through the halls like embers

Drama, gossip; stuff I hate

Filtered across at an increasing rate

There are lockers to open; polished with red

All those combinations spinning through your head

As the padlock turns slightly; ticking with numbers

You have no time to slumber

Classes, some are interesting

Others set the hours to distancing

Formulas, graphs, scrawled letters

Flying around my backpack as if feathers

Lunch, we sit with our own groups

In rectangular and circular tables; eating through scoops

Of, sometimes, delicious food

For others, I’m not in the mood

Swearing and mocking take place in conversations

I laugh at each person’s station

On what craziness they have to offer

Other times, I’m upset; ending up as a scoffer

It’s weird how the time passes; everyone dating

And in their groups; At times I’m waiting

For the day to be over; so I could go back home

And be by myself; as the years roam