Freshman year is sunflowers and rainbows

Small fish in a newer, bigger pond

Middle school is still remembered semi-fondly

Everyone is trying to impress each other

And loud screams echo in the halls as you pass the upperclassmen

Because attention means they're impressed

Even when they call you a freshman as if it were a slur

Sophomore year is growth

It is the year of pregnancy jokes and cringing at the thought of eighth grade year

You are still underclassmen, but your class is  no longer a slur in the mouths of those older than you

And now, despite how much you hated hearing it yourself,

You can't help but find yourself saying "freshman" the same way it was said to you last year

Junior year is the year of torments

It's the year of your first true love

The year of new friends and saying goodbyes

It's the year you realize time is running out on what is left of your childhood

So you act and feel invincible as though tragedy can never touch you

Junior year is the year you realize academics are vital

So you stop skipping by classes and actually pay attention

It's the year you finally prioritize your life

You get a job, you learn to drive if you haven't already

You figure yourself out, or at least you try to

Senior year is I don't care and get me out of here

Senioritis has fully kicked in

You want out of high school and you're ready for graduation

You've accepted your fate to become another cog in the clockwork of life

You feel prepared but still scared

Senior year is a hopeful see you later

When it really feels like a final goodbye