oh, but our graduation class!

dear graduation class of two-thousand-and-eight
years have passed us by since we first met/ i remember the younger days/ of sticks and stones and high school blues.
i have often wondered when i’ll see you again/ in decade or two/ perhaps after a world tour or two/ when shall we look back again/ and think of those years when we made it count.
thank you for the laughs, thank you for the tears, thank you for the clashing, thank you for the loving/ i’ll have to leave you all, but reluctantly/it’ll be grey but you must know/ i’ll keep two-thousand-and-eight near my heart/ near my heart wherever i go.

(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
-e e cummings