Over

I'm not mad,
Nor am I sad
At the year
That has passed.

Nor am I
Bouncing off the walls
With glee.
I'm just here.

It's over, baby,
A year to remember,
A year to forget,
A year has passed.

Now I leave
This room,
With it's pale yellow walls.
Room 408.
Nice living in you.
Nuff respect.
Big up your chest.

* I will be honest, while typing out this poem I was reading it with new eyes. At first, I thought it was about the room the art class occupied at State College, but as I read I realized it was a dorm room. It's amazing how something that was so important at the time is just a foggy memory long after. It becomes something that isn't important and worth remembering. I guess it is best to savour the moment you are in then let it go because it soon will be forgotten.