'high school'

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Swim captain is his title in the school The pool is known as his second home People always telling him, the fish can’t even out swim him
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'} “so, when should we have sex?” her lips were cherry pink and quivering with insecure verve. (did she have braces yet?)
I await for a person who doesnt come. I debate wether I stay or go If i move on on hand and toe  Mabye she'll come mabye no Its almost time, its running out  Its almost time to go
Standing there, Tall and fair A girl with a future, unprepared Growing again, making memories last   Standing out, actions scream and shout A young girl full of doubt
My name is Judy Kariuki and it’s pronounced as Karaoke,  I love creative platforms so i’ll tell you my story.  I’ve always been quiet very reserved and so shy,  I’d let people step all over me, 
Kids go to school all they wanna do is look cool they don't care about the grades they just want everyone to know their first name they go to school   tell kids to be like me or you just lame
It’s another project, but this time, it’s personal. Those are the worst kind. Do what you like, do what you love, follow your passion! Well, what are you grading me on?
Face's, so many I see what is real anymore
Music class in 10th grade.  Create tunes.  Synths played The final project Made a video about sampling  It is stitching together music Each artist makes an amount of effort in making their own sound. 
I wonder about you.   I wonder if that smile is genuine, or if you force your muscles To make up a lie.  
When I got to my first high school class, When I sat with new supplies and eager anticipation, When I took the notes and did the homework, When my classmates started complaining about all-nighters,
Elaine Jane, Born to poor dropouts, yet still had a brain. Might not swing hammer, still moved from Alabama, Almost killed by a school shooter manna’
Friday night Alone in my room Home and away From everything and everyone. I get a text Late at night It’s from a good friend
Chalk dust Flakes from my fingers to my eyes, As I rub the to-dos into lashes And stare at the checkboxes for yesterday
On some of the shelves you can find pairs of shoes Among strangely bold walls with orangish hues. Certainly crumbs or some chips are about
Shout So loud the walls shake and the paint chips off in little pieces Decorating the blood on the floors And the blood in the hands of those who allow a child to possess a rifle
One text. One reply. Two texts. Two replies. Three texts. No replies. No response; which was so unorthodox. I thought this was so uncool, to be in school.
Cover your ears little darling, Space your fingers evenly like piano keys No scant remains of your cry Will scar your beloved brain, a pained pulp Stand feet shoulder length apart
Dear Future,
Dear Eagle Rock High School Auditorium,   I was a mere seventh grader when you were renovated. I was afraid that the 90 years of history Would be lost. I guess that’s the thing about theatre. It vanishes.
Dear System, You tried. You tried your best to squash me down A square peg into your row of round holes. You tried so hard you overlooked
I was strong throughout my past three years of high school. I worked well, study well, got good grades. And then senioritis hits me. But it’s not because I’m lazy.
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