It’s closing time,
I’ll have to take it as a sign:
‘It’s time to leave’,
‘there’s no time for a reprieve’.
There’s no more time for me to grow,
I’m busy with my final year woes.
I hate how fast time goes,
when you have that good life flow.
I kind of want to know,
Did I put on a good show?
And I really need to know,
do I actually have to go?
It’s closing time,
and the end is nigh!
Find a reason for me to stay!!
There’s no time to play!!
Can I stay here forever?
It’ll be hard not being together.
My tie is hard to sever,
I still need to prove I’m clever!
I hope these memories never fade,
although they already have a weathered haze.
I fear this freedom was just a phase,
and the adult world looks like a maze.
It’s closing time,
and I’ve got to act fine.
Let’s cry over a bottle of wine,
leaving this city feels like a crime.
Maybe it’s my time?
Shall I take it with grace?
And leave with a dignified haste?
To give the freshers some space?
How can I abandon this place?
The seminar debates and discussion space?!
Lecture halls and society balls?!
Going on a bar crawl through the city sprawl?!
It’s closing time,
and I’ve taken it as a sign:
‘It’s time to leave.’
This poem was my reprieve.