I'm sure that anyone who's reached the end of their school time can relate to this. I've just reached the end of my time at Prep school, ready to move on your 3rd form (year 9). Now, I've been to 6 different schools in my life so far, so I'm used to goodbyes. Infact, I'm so used to them that I've learnt not to be upset by it...
The headmaster spoke his words, the words gone cold.
The man, he spoke of times grown old.
Smiling and nodding, with a gleam in his eye.
When the girls beside me just started to cry.
Swollen faced, flushed red.
The girls all cried and then they fled.
But no, not me. For I don’t weep.
I know friends made are friends to keep.
Memories shared are memories made.
A girl, Tash, turned to me and said.
“Why don’t you cry? Where is your pain?”
I said “Crying? Sadness? What does that gain?
Dear Tash, I’m not heartless, I feel your sorrow.
But remember, I’ll see you again, if not tomorrow,
Then soon! I promise. So don’t you despair.
I do feel emotion. I really do care.
But six different times I’ve been through the ends
Of leaving schools and leaving all friends.
My heart hasn’t grown cold, it’s just grown strong.”
What, in that, can be so wrong?
I did shed a tear, but it wasn’t for them.
It was for myself, so ripped at the stem.
I am just a heartless, wretched old beast.
I could have pretended to cry, at least!
But I’ve moved around, from place to place.
Never settling, just parting, without leaving a trace.
Five other schools, five sets of friends.
All gone. For, one day, everything ends.
