Graduation party

Graduations, funerals, weddings and such,

Can be fun, but aren’t that much.

The pattern is the same for every single fest,

All the greetings, some cake (which I like the best),

Lots of awkward talk and laughter,

A barrel-like stomach is what I’m after.

This time, though, with my graduation,

We had some young people from more than one nation.

We found a volleyball and a net to go with,

And with persuasion, players fourth and fifth.

Our fancy-dancy pants were stained with grass,

As one, or more, fell down on their ass,

Our frilly-silly shirts were drenched in sweat:

The very best party that I’ve seen yet.

Even the oldies and goldie-locks told us,

“It was nice to be out and watch you cuss,

The sun felt nice and you made bad plays,

Which was hilarious in all the right ways.”

I hope I remember this the xteenth time,

Not standing on ceremony is not a  real crime,

Unless of course it’s Buckingham Palace,

You might be beheaded with the Queen’s own chalice.


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