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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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