At the End At the end of my thirteen years I give be at my graduation with my friends and family, thinking well-nigh the things Im leaving behind. In the end at the big day, Ill be sitting on stage looking my peers saying motionless good byes to those who are leaving and picking out those ones who every last(predicate)ow for stay. Good bye too Joey who ships out non even so a month after we graduate in the NAVY. To fasten who will probably go play college basketball someplace interchangeable North Carolina or Florida. Then theres the ones who will stay, like T.J.
who, like me, probably has no idea what he is overtaking to do. Warren, who will probably do sheetrock for his dad, will move into the flat over his parents garage. There will be my family who is concerned a bought me not knowing what I want to do. My mom balling though the slide show of pictures of me as a kid. Along spot of my parents will be my 610 grandpa and his 52 wife. Then there will be grandma Ava Lee , Big MaÂ, and her not all there look. Then Ill start to remember all of Good Old TimesÂ.
Coach Tommys Get on the line! practices. Coach Joes legendary deer hunts and possessed zap stories. Than there is all the trouble I got in- the time I signed my name on the concrete table in the breezeway in foot and a half blue letters. Ill reach from there with memories of my ken, buds, and reflections of the past.
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