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Graduation
by Anna Walisser, Grande Prairie, Alberta, Canada

We all line the coliseum, young Romans, standing in navy robes.

With our hats tilted slightly to the side, temptations all we know.

They say this is our moment, this is our time, and

what I am yet to understand

How this turning point that comes at eighteen, determines who I am.

I guess this is it, this is graduation.

These last few seconds that should lead us to the realization

That this is it, this is all we know

A couple useless textbooks lying in a row

Yet they refuse to believe that our lives could amount to more,

Than just a few test papers, scattered on the floor.

What defines us? Is it this song, playing faintly in the background?

What controls us? The faded faces sitting in the crowd?

So instead we walk like little soldiers, chins held high

Faces perfect, to disguise the masks that revile who we are inside

So just define us and place us in a lineup and we’ll become our chosen cult

Scared children, frightened adolescence, unknowing young adults.