( Author's Note: Not very good, I know. I was all mad about summer being
over, so I wrote this. )

We wave goodbye and hug our friends,
Like the next day would be another today.
The sun is setting, horizon orange and red,
The blue sky, slipping away.

But I guess we just don’t understand,
What this really means.
It’s just another Sunday evening, after all.
We’re all just simple teens.

But, you see, it’s already late in August,
And that means summer’s out.
No more time to party on,
No more time to sing and shout.

So we lay our heads down on our pillows
At only nine o’clock.
Because the next morning, on the now silenced door,
There will be a knock.

The knock that every teenager dreads,
Though some will hear a ring.
A knock of a mother’s knuckles on the door,
Or the ring an alarm clock would bring.

Sooner or later, we’ll fall asleep,
Because sadly the day is done.
There’s nothing else to do but say,
“So long to summer fun.”

 
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