And so it comes that this day passes

A day where so much happens

Did we make it through school on luck and chance?

...or perhaps just (pomp and) circumstance?

Will I remember it in years to come?

When I die and I'm up above

Will I look down upon the masses

Upon my own blacken, charr'd ashes

Upon each birch and quaking aspen

And ask myself Did it all really happen?

Was it always just "this and that", and!

In this, our only lifetime

Are we forced to mime

To just conform to?

...are we afraid to do what we really want to do?

Can it be that we're just here for the playtime

The schooltime, the downtime, the mealtime,

The wartime, the peacetime, and it's always sometime.

And in life we never get a halftime

And nothing ever quite stops on a dime

In the meantime we continue our climb

Through the slime and the grime

And we always seem to mistime what could have been sublime

But the truth of the matter is, my friends, we are not here for a very longtime

Never enough do we contrive

Never enough do we strive

For what we want

...Are we far too nonchalant?

Once we take this dive

Out of this comforting hive

And begin a struggle to survive

I imply that we have nothing to hide

And we're ready to face life

But what we need to remember is that we'll never get out alive.

As we wait here in our gowns

To accept our senior generation's hand-me-downs

We have to ponder

...have to wonder

We all hope we become renown

And never receive the thumbs-down

Or get putdown or letdown

And I tell you now

If one of us were to fall down

Another would pick them up off the ground

Now that we've marched, straight and tall

There is no longer a cure-all

No magical remedy

...But I'm sure we haven't been told this already.

And I tell you now that everyone you see before you,

This diverse and motley crew,

Has earned their right

...yes, by me at least, they're all alright.

Now the only question left is "Whereto?"

But, no matter what, we'll always have to make-do

And I am sorry if, in this poem, I have broken some sort of taboo

But be patient, I am almost through

And this speech may already be long overdue

But we've finished our studies; one and one is two

Though we still don't know the capital of Peru

What's that? The sound of sleeping seniors? That is my cue

What I've been trying to explain, or more rather, ascertain

May be considered both mundane and insane

And I do believe this pertains to everyone who remains

Though these last four years may have been considered to be in vain and unsteady

I do believe, though not all of us may know it, that we, as a whole, are ready