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The path of success
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School poems As he slowly walks along with his class,
The orchestra's playing the famous tune.
He is nervous and hot beneath the mass
Of the robe that someone wears every June.
He stares as each familiar face strolls up
And waits to grasp his diploma in hand.
He prays that his happiness will erupt
Thinking he'll see them next in the new land.
His name's called, and he receives his freedom,
Then smiles and tries to cover up his tears he joyfully cried.
For he knows that nothing will be the same
When he says good-bye to his highschool years gone by.
Stepping down he waves to his family
He's sad to move on, yet thrilled to be free.
