Ill Timed
Every day we sit in silence
Contemplating the realism that is our evanescence
And deciding how we’ll spend our lives
With whom we spend our time
And with which attitude we say goodbye
The pain that stabs our heart
With a single word
When we gaze upon their face
And theirs no longer looks back at us
But instead complacent glass reflects our sorrow
Your donation will support the student journalists of McNeil High School. Your contribution will allow us to purchase equipment and cover our annual website hosting costs.