mhall46184@aol.com
Senior Year
You wake up in the morning and you know
You’ll only be all wrong again todayA prisoner of constant condemnation
And even your silence is suspicious
Your soul dissected for any dissent
Examined with sneering disapprovalAnd any hope is hissed with decent scorn
Your silence is especially suspicious
But maybe…
Maybe today – maybe it will be different…
You foolish boy; how wrong you always are
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