End of Beginning
End of Beginning
As the year comes to an end,
I notice the flaws I dread.
I somehow always manage
to procrastinate
through twenty-four hours of my day.
My future creeps upon me,
ever so near.
Thirteen years, just like that—
gone in a snap.
I remember second grade,
moving a small paper along
colored posters
rewarding my good behavior.
I remember fourth grade,
as a nine-year-old,
guiding my little sister’s hand
to the playground for recess.
I remember sixth grade,
swinging on a makeshift seat,
tied to a tree with rope—
summer camp memories held true.
I remember eighth grade,
laughing on a crowded bus,
the engine humming beneath us,
off to adventure, hearts racing with the rush.
I remember tenth grade,
propping open my laptop
to join a live lesson or two.
And soon, I’ll have to wait and see
what I’ll remember
from my last year—
much to my relief,
well, there goes those thirteen years—
just like that,
gone in a snap.
