It's a new day.

Every summer, it's harder than the last.
I get closer to being completely done with school.
There are four more years.
Four very short years.

I've just left a phase of my life.
I'm a high schooler now.
No more "Mama fus"
or Mr. Wilson and his guitar.

We're all a little different now.
We're moving on.
No more familiar halls.
Cheers, to four very short years.

Let's make it last.