I walk through the halls of the memories of my life
Wondering if I had done everything I could to make it all right.
"This is the last time," I tell myself as my fingertips glide across the cement blocks that create and form the very structure that holds the beginning of who I am.
Is this the end?
This is the end.
To my left is the room where I met my best friend, and to the right is the hall I walked everyday to get to my least favorite class.
I'll still miss it.
I'll still miss the pushing and shoving through seas of hormones and pulsating minds trying their hardest to get to their destination, trying to be on time.
I'll still miss the constant tapping of a pencil from the person next to me while trying to take a test that could potentially make or break my grade.
I am walking out of my past, it is about to fade.
Am I ready for all of this to be behind me?
Am I ready to move on?
Mon temps ici était bon.
What do I do once this is all gone?
It'll all be gone.
These are my last steps in this place of which I have grown so fond.
It has latched onto my heart with a profound bond.
My life is etched into the mortar of these walls
It is time to say farewell, it is time to miss it all.