Hurrying, with faces crimson,
Sweating from the rising tension,
Fidgeting, becoming nervous,
Fearing we will miss our bus,
Knowing life won’t wait for us.
Friends around us, smiling, crying,
Holding, hugging, shrugging, sighing,
Letting go with heads held high,
An outstretched wave, and then, “Good-bye”,
Knowing it’s our last, “Good-bye,”
A new adventure now is nigh.
© 032805 Petit Poet
Monday, March 28, 2005
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