Come children, time to pick your poison.
Something that affects the next four years but a rush to be chosen.
Choose
Let your regret put you in a chokehold as you fret you chose the wrong
school.
Choose
As your friends whisper bias, clouding your judgement you lose your cool.
Choose
As you lock in your choice, you yearn to see if what you did was the right
thing to do.
Chosen!
Time’s up! No more switching or changing.
You’re going where you’re going, and you’ll never see your friends again.
Goodbye!
“Yo bro, what school are you going to pick?”
“I’m thinking of going to Mckinley Tech.”
“Nah man, Phelps has way better IT.”
“Hell, nah what do you mean?”
My mirror fogs up from the heated debate
I need to get ready for school before I’m late
“Everybody take out a computer to research schools.”
Choose.
The word echoes in everybody’s mind as we start running out of time.
People compare choices but we all have different minds.
How can we choose the same school if we all have our own thing that we
like?
Lose
It sets in that I, you, or her, or him, probably won’t see each other again.
One day my school brings in an alumni.
They talk about high-school, they talk about the transition.
But one quote really put my heart on a mission.
“Choose for the best you that you can envision, not for others even if you
miss them.”
To choose for myself means to choose for my kin,
to choose for myself means to choose for no other man,
to choose for me means to choose—
When I come home my parents bombard me with questions,
“Why? When? What did you choose?”
I lay down my bookbag and steady my mind.
“I chose what I thought was right…
if you don’t agree then that’s tragic because I’ve had it.”
Now those who know me know I would never say that.
But I chose for me and sometimes this is what it means.
Moving Forward
Freshman year was tough, new opportunities
for eager hands waiting to steal one for their own.
Moving Forward
As I start to lose contact with those I left behind,
I get second thoughts in my mind.
Moving Forward
As the year wraps up, I vow to be better next year.
The loop starts again, but different.
The jokes don’t hit the same,
and you know the drill so there’s nobody you can blame.
Junior year you should find your ground.
You know what to do and how to do it, you finally look like you know your way
around.
But that confidence will be replaced by a familiar uncertainty.
Soon those genuine laughs are overturned by bittersweet smiles.
With every new freshman you see
a friend you lost in the sauce
but nonetheless you must keep
MOVING FORWARD.
Senior year, they bring in an alumnus
who talks about a choice that weighs on us all.
But now I listen closely,
I know a simple phrase can affect someone deeply,
“Come children time to pick your poison.”
“Take your time to choose so regret does not take hold.”
“Do not let your friends whisper because this road is yours alone.”
“As you lock in your choice you will walk with poise,
because you know you made the right choice.”
“Have confidence in the power you hold,
because nobody else has seen the stories you hold.”
“That is how you pick your poison.”