~James Beebee, Class of 2025

I look back at the world where history was made,
The glowing moonlight, shimmering on the lake.
The lush, thick trees, inviting comfort and shade
and our modernized kitchen, filled with apples and cake.

Amidst our overgrown castle, where nature never fades.
Whispers of history linger, as time and ivy intertwine in the graves.
Insects hummed ancient melodies, a symphony of life's serenade,
Carrying a nostalgic reminder of beauty, in the ruins where memories cascade,

But in that place, where my brother Sam and I used to play,
Through the meadows and fields where adventures were laid.
Uncle Redd was searching for me when I ran into a cave
As I tried to save my brother Harold from dying by a blade.

My parents had come to comfort me 
as I was crying near the sea.
Right as our army started to flee
from the dark legions, making our city bleed.

I was one of three survivors that day
We were left with nothing to our name
surviving on salami, minutes from decay
Yet, I long for those days, filled with pain.

The bonds we forged, the laughter we shared,
With friends and community, in moments so rare. 
Underneath the stars, by the fire we’d meet
I strive for those sad memories where I’d weep.

Now I’m retired, but I feel empty inside
I have no hobbies. I have no drive
My life is perfect, with everything I could need
but money can’t buy happiness, only creating greed.

Nostalgia has a grip, a force so strong
driving every decision with its solemn song.
A melodic symphony we can't seem to forget.
These moments we treasure, love, and regret