To the Graduating Class

Emily Shellabarger


I stand before you

In the shadows of memories that are as dark

As the eyeliner worn by the abused freshmen

Whose lives were a burning hell because of you priorities.


Remember when you insulted the “fat” girl

Who sat in front of you in 6th period biology

With words from your mouth that was full of vomit

After lunch?

 All so you could wear a damn size 0 dress.


Remember when you paraded into the dance

With that dress made of less material

Than the boxers on the groin

You were shoving your ass on?

The dress ended up on the floor of his backseat anyways.


Remember when you shot gunned Busch Light

In the basement of the assistant principal’s house

So you could stumble into the game of a buffed up meat head?


Remember this untalented meat head

Who was only announced in the starting line up

Because his slut-of-a-mother’s lip stick was on the coach’s collar?

His wife was feeding their daughter in the stands.


Remember when you shimmied down your spankies

Past your knobby knees so the tiny-teste, roid rager

Could make you the butt of a new rumor that passed

Through the hallway faster than the prescription medicine

Trevor stole from his father?

Is it still a rumor if it’s true?


We are the world; this is the future.

So put on your gowns – Memorial High School Class of 2008 –

And take the diploma you earned by kneeling

Under Mr. NcNally’s desk.

Make this city proud!


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