A Summary of What I Hope to be the Worst Year of Our Lives

COVID has been a real stretch
from the online school
to the numerous hybrid models
it’s been a real s t r e t c h
I always thought
a pandemic
would be like it is in the media:
Dark
foreboding
skies
an apocalyptic world
But no
it was everyday life
with masks
and a sleeping chaos
eating at everyone’s subconscious
Hospitalizations
shortages
everything
felt
distant
A dark cloud
floating just beyond the horizon
never quite reaching us
Still
I could feel the vicious winds accompanying the cloud
media outlets
reporting devastation
that felt just so far away
It stayed there
for online school
endless hours of Zoom
people and their faces
dissolved into black boxes with names
torture for everyone
The cloud stayed there
for all of the forms of hybrid
two days in person and three days asynchronous
then two days in person
one asynchronous day
two synchronous days
Confusing schedules
coupled with constant changes
set everyone on edge
quiet classes dragged
with no chat to type in
or computer to hide behind
hybrid was arduous to adjust to
The cloud stayed there
for in-person school
one asynchronous day
was discovered to be helpful
as a mid-week break
for everyone
a slight sense of normalcy was found
with this model of learning
But guess what?
the year’s almost at its end now
and my eighth-grade year has been messed up
I mean
sure
it was a learning experience
(in many more ways than one)
it taught me the necessity of flexibility
and sensible optimism
but the
irrevocable
fact
is that my last year in middle school
was muddied
thrown askew
by a cloud
The cloud will stay there
it’ll stay there for ages
(And how could I ever forget
what feels like an axe
hanging
over my head:
high school)
Teachers tell me that grades don’t define me
but high school grades matter the most
I shouldn’t be stressed by school because it’ll be a breeze
but I can expect a workload that takes a Herculean force to overcome
Fun
I can’t wait.)
But one day
the cloud will be reduced to wisps
its brutal winds finally calmed
Maybe it’ll scream with thunder
and flare with lightning
and pass on
Or maybe it’ll dissipate
the sun’s mellow rays
cutting the cloud into fragments
and allowing them to fade
Who knows how it’ll go?
it doesn’t matter
one day
the cloud will go.
Thank you to all the teachers I’ve had in middle school, during, and before COVID; core class, elective, and club teachers alike. Thank you to all of Westlake for providing me with a fun (albeit tiresome and difficult) three years. Thank you to Ms. Kaehny, Ms. Cianfrance, and the rest of the newspaper club. I’ll never forget the time I spent with you here. And finally, thank you to all of my friends and family who helped me whenever I needed it and got me through these long three years. Peace, Westlake.