One day senior year is like no other
The day we mark the field house with our name
And of course we can paint one another
Green paint flies and it’s anything but tame
We rush from the doors as fast as we can
Wanting to be the first one to get there
To get a good spot you need a game plan
The people in front of me stop to stare
When I see what’s waiting I nearly faint
It is nothing short of a tragedy
What I see is there is no more green paint
The point is to paint so how can that be?
Now we have to find a way to get more
We had to go and borrow some from a friend
Then we found a spot closer to the floor
And that is where our names went in the end.
Oh my gosh, i know. it was soooo horrible. I hated that there was no paint left. i barely wrote my name :(. Anyways i love your poem. that day was really quite tragic because of the lack of paint but at least we managed to get paint all over ourselves. haha :D
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