Bailey

Interlachen.

Interlachen.

Why are you

So far away?

Interlachen.

Interlachen.

Why did you

Go there to stay?

Interlachen.

Interlachen.

F-L-O

R-I-D-A.

Interlachen.

Interlachen.

Why must things

Go this way?

Sixth grade.

Sixth grade.

I still recall

The fun we had.

Sixth grade.

Sixth grade.

All the good

And all the bad.

Sixth grade.

Sixth grade.

Physical pain,

Far from sad.

Sixth grade.

Sixth grade.

Lunchtime when we

All went mad.

Come back.

Come back.

I miss you,

Your naughty ways.

Come back.

Come back.

Do you remember

The green hair phase?

Come back.

Come back.

Me, and Gwen,

And Apeman says.

Come back.

Come back.

I think of you

Most every day.

The End

13 comments about this poem Feed