It is kind've fitting why the teachers
don't trust us to do work on our own time.
We watch from the stand, cheer from the bleachers.
The school probation lasts way past our prime.
To pass the class and make it to prom day,
we seniors watch the clock,staring blankly
at the hands; waiting to rush the doorway.
Teachers can’t comprehend, and get cranky...
Our Senior-itis is contagiously,
soaking into our brains, and we don’t care.
Class of ‘sixteen; let’s act outrageously.
Spring break on our minds, let’s play truth or dare...
Being careless, let’s start a school riot.
Don't back down, Devils are never quiet!
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Batavia High Ap Lit and Comp Poem