The crunch of the rustling leaves,
The whistles of a blowing breeze.
Oh, how fast this season’s come.
For some—a time for joy, a time to cheer,
For others—a time for nerves, a time to fear.
Oh, how fast this season’s come.
A new year’s come as the summer’s gone,
The students yawn to the new day’s dawn.
Oh, how fast this season’s come.
Some will greet it as old friends,
Others will have to make amends,
Each having to get by through and through.
Students of old and students of new,
Students who have bid their adieu,
Their new journey awaiting.
As new friends forge, others come to end,
Fights will surface as old ones mend,
Individual pathways meet and break.
A new year’s come as the summer’s gone,
The students yawn to the new day’s dawn.
Oh how fast this season’s come.
For some—a time for joy, a time to cheer,
For others— a time for nerves, a time to fear.
Oh, how fast this season’s come.
The crunch of the rustling leaves,
The whistles of a blowing breeze.
Oh, how fast this season’s come.
How fast this season’s certainly come, indeed.
Julienne Loresco, 25-SE
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