High School Sestina
First day starts,
and our hearts race.
Young, open eyes
observe their habits.
Freshmen feel lost,
as Seniors break free.
Everyone feels free,
as second semester starts.
Uncertainity is lost,
we enter the race.
Routines form habits,
as knowledge opens eyes.
Using new eyes,
we visualize ourselves free.
No freshman habits
plague our fresh starts.
Continuing to race
forward, worries are lost.
Two years lost,
but futures grab eyes.
Juniors now race,
yearning to break free.
College search starts,
time steals old habits.
Accepting new habits,
we avoid feeling lost.
Saying goodbye starts
fear in our eyes.
Trapped and free,
almost leaving the race.
A fair race?
Just made these habits.
Content being free?
Still finding the lost.
Seniors close eyes,
imagining our new starts.
Very close to free from the race,
Everyone starts to anticipate new habits.
Ready to feel lost again with open eyes.
Carolyn, this poem is brilliant. It not only manages the strict guidelines of the sestina with ease, but it truly captures the essence of high school. This makes me proud to be your writing partner. Considering that I've taught you everything you know in a matter of two weeks, I have to say that I'm impressed. You've come such a long way. I'm not quite sure if you will ever be as good as I am, but keep on trying. And on a serious note, submit this to Prism!
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