Memories School Poems | Examples
These Memories School poems are examples of School poems about Memories. These are the best examples of School Memories poems written by international poets.
As sun rises
I hear your voice
Playfully waking me up
To start our day together
Filled with adventures.
We go down the road
Teasing the shopkeeper,
Running back, dogs chasing
Breathless laughter in the air.
We had many people
Around us, but
Having each other's presence
Was more than anything
This world could offer
We sowed seeds
Of our friendship
With love and hope
To grow our own garden
But I lost the trace.
It's been 10 years,
Still drowning in our time
And I've been wondering
What type of garden
Would it be now
Would it have grown like
A garden of
Long-lasting roots
Or a garden of
Forgotten threads?
If you'd ask
If I still remember you,
I'd say
I still hold you
As you never left me.
Somethings never change
Me, losing loved ones
You, losing our memories.
I hope that you still remember
Atleast one seed.
If it ever crosses your mind,
You might wonder, like
It's a Special memory of life
But I miss it, like
It's a Special life of memory.
It was Sister Francine
who treated us so mean.
She’d rap us on our knuckles
with the Father’s belt buckles
toiling to keep our sin-loving souls clean.
I wish I could’ve whispered
To my young and clueless self
That this boy lives on a timer
This boy really needs help
It was already written down
By nature’s cruel hand
It was craved into the stars
He’ll try, but won’t withstand
One day I was in English class
I got a breaking message
I cried and screamed and cried aghast
And felt myself start retching
I clearly see, hung by the neck
Can clearly see his eye
Where before, a-light a-spec
Now gloss reflects the sky
The memories I try to keep
Are jumbled out of order
It’s been eight years, yet I still weep
From words he said, so morbid
It’s not our fault, it couldn’t be
We’re not psychics, not prophets
But I was part of that same guilt
Gave him no peace, no solace
Hello! Old friend,
You crossed my mind today,
After decades of no thoughts of you.
Today, I sat across a meeting I'd rather avoid;
Then I thought of you.
I wonder what happened to the life of us.
We were there, then we weren't;
Too absorbed by the happenings.
We didn't remember to preserve our sight of each other.
My old friend,
I thought of you today.
I found out you also had your share of life and its happenings.
I remember you,
Just like how much of the past I want to forget.
The memories of you are delicately situated in that past,
But I thought of you today.
I remember the smiles we shared.
I still remember that we share the same birth month.
To an old friend,
Being friends again might not be possible,
But I'll always remember that we were once friends.
I'll only remember us as friends.
I Don't know what to do
People Day That i am worthless
My thoughts are all blue
My whole life is a mess
I Think its safe to say
That I'm not normal
I Don't want to stay
Past memories still haunts me
I guess for this world
I'm not that enough
I Just need a sign
Not to end my life
Screamed at the Peak
Nobody can reach
and i questioned myself
Who am I?
They said I used them
But I was used by someone
Gave everything like nobody else
You didn't understand what I meant
Think that I'm so changed
Cause I can speak truthfully
But the truth of being changed
Was being abandoned
I don't blame
Knowing what you did isn't lame
One was crust another best
How could I even hate?
I just need a sign
To be alive
Screamed on the peak
Nobody could reach
And questioned myself
Who am I?
Am I the one who used somebody?
Am I the one who talks to nobody?
Am I the one who apologizes
Even though I made no mistake
Am the one who's emotional
Am I the one who wants to end
Cause burden I have
I just want to break
That's why I end
Still don't know
Who I am
I stand before it,
Something that was my present in past,
And is yesterday today,
Something that has become a memory at last.
A shade of yellow settled in my eyes,
Which would now reminisce everything in sight,
Bidding my last goodbyes,
Everything slowly flushed by a sepia light.
Those tarnished blue coloured walls,
That have been hit by our class’ cricket balls,
Those trees of green,
Which luminate the autumn sheen.
This role playing ground,
Changing its character as occasions are found,
Once a ground to our sports fest,
Another to when our parade isn’t at rest.
Those now-never-to-be-seen teachers,
Whose faces I miss,
These dusky classes,
Which now strike a lighting bliss.
Memories hidden in those benches and blackboards,
Each one has a story it hoards.
The forgotten tales of when I thought ‘their’ and ‘there’ were same,
Would be recalled if the wood had a mouth and a name.
Past is the moon,
Memories, the water,
Nostalgia, the tide,
Nothing to be felt but a warm collide.
Mourn not till the embers fade,
Till the blasphemous time forces us on our way.
Mourn not what is dying
But treasure instead what it created.
Listen to how the gulls cry;
They don’t mourn for our passing.
The littering fragments we left behind
Will continue to rise and fall with the wind,
Dance and rejoice in the ringing bells.
Exhale.
Feel the tender breeze soften around us
Like falling feathers and marshmallows.
May our muddied footprints be forever plastered onto the path,
A deposit of completed childhoods.
How long ago were we last showered in gold or mahogany?
Last felt the tendrils of snow melting on our hands?
We could’ve never known that that was it.
The final time.
The final pen stroke on our final essay.
Overhead a helicopter cuts nonchalantly through the air,
Oblivious to the smouldering fires beneath
But till the embers fade to ash,
Memories will rejuvenate the flames.
He sneaked his way into the Lecture
Hall like a thief,
His greetings were brief,
Glancing around the room with a friendly
smile, he then rested a long gaze upon
her face,
She felt uneasy and thought he might
be in the wrong place.
A while later, he boldly slipped a note
into her hand, with a one-eyed wink,
Reading it made her cheeks turn rosy
pink,
She dashed to the water cooler and
took a long drink,
Her brain froze, and for a moment
she couldn’t think.
To her surprise.they were paired
together, and now sat staring at
each other; neither spoke, and neither
looked away,
Fate’s fire ignited and was ablaze,
In a world of their own, their eyes
locked in a silent gaze,
It seemed Destiny was at play, ensuring
them that today was their day.
In the hush of that moment,
the hearts of a naive teenager and
the cool-as-ice young stranger
entwined,
And as they parted and joined
the flowing tide,
Embedded in their memories,
the magic of their brief encounter
will forever reside.
By Zyrool
As the yellow-orange sun slowly rises
Memories of your class's fun flood my heart
Thoughts run to your teaching and enterprises
You brought those tiny guppies to our class
A creative shiny diorama's great art
Sunshiny person and dedicated lass
You lifted us up when you said
All the gifted books available we'd outsmart
Sad you to your death drifted from your sickbed
Waking up before the sun kisses
Chirping of birds becomes brushed aside
Putting glasses to see better
With unpolished shoes I ride over
With an old beg of mine
Keeping some old books inside
The rusted passage let me in
I walk through a road edged with topiary
as if golden hedges welcome me
The old corridor embraces my stomping footsteps
Holding a chalk to create and defend
I march into battle ground cum temple of knowledge
Keeping all agonies behind the doorway
A warrior devotes to serve the future
An oath to fire up extinguishing lamps
And to nourish the saplings till they grow
Time rushes with greying hairs and vivid memories
But the grown up trees reminds me to keep going
Early September rain
A dampened sidewalk,
Wet leaves lead me back
To blackboards and chalk
The wood of the desks
Cupboards along the wall,
Fresh, clean and simple
Newly awakens it all
The lessons learned
Countless memories made,
A moment forgotten ...
I'm back in fourth grade
The sharpened pencils
The crayon's shaving,
Add up to the many
Aromas worth saving
Pink erasers, notebooks
A new binder that year,
The scent of paper when
An open book is near
The paints, the markers
Linger on in my mind,
And those stickers ...
The scratch 'n sniff kind
Spaghetti ... or lasagna
Drifts down the hall,
From the lunchroom
Caused excitement for all
The chocolate milk ...
I would always pick it,
Came in paper cartons
And bought with a ticket
Quiet, sun - filled skies
Meant recess for us,
Remembered radio songs
Going home on the bus
New shoes laced up
Ready for mornings cool,
And all of it brings me
Right back to school.
Although we’re just moving in,
It feels like we’re lived in these rooms forever.
I can’t look around without the past coming out to play.
These ivy halls are sticky with memories now.
The movers left a while ago and I took a moment to loiter,
on our red corduroy couch, and watch my roommates settling in.
There’s an irony, for me, in the subconscious ways I adapt
to the people who surround me. Whether it’s the way I dress, talk,
laugh, act, or the things I become interested in. There’s no ossifying here.
We’ll pick up our books tomorrow and do some last minute shopping.
I’ll walk out paths to classes. I know the campus but I’m a relentless planner.
Classes start Wednesday, that’s when circumstances will take over -
the schedules and studies - we’ll mold our lives into the larger ecosystem.
.
.
A song for this:
Dreams Via Memories by Ceramic Animal
The Hardest Part by Olivia Dean
Once the memories starts to crawl back there
It feels more unbearable to stand alone here
The sudden laughs we shared with no reason at all
The moments we felt with holding hands as a whole
The everyday circles of talks, peps and plans
Moments we earned the sense of victory with our proud hearts
To be honest I know,
I know that the days I'm dreaming to have
Just like the days we used to have
They are not going to happen anymore
Though I secretly cry, pray and mourn
To have more of them for the rest of my brio
Why can't we have more of it
Whose fault it really is...
When none of us want to be apart but we have to
The world is cruel that way, and for that I hate you
So alas! we keep telling ourselves "our friendship never dies"
Though I sense its' painful dying breaths, trying to pretend
"I never die"
Now, everybody has started to say
That all of us have to move away
Away from the joy and the feelings that we shared together
To have them collected and protected, to have more with strangers
Strangers one day, will become otherwise and collected
Well, here I am speaking out loud, that I’m never going to own
Some fine dusty Albums.
Oh, the 1990's,
songs by Seattle grunge,
and boy band's romanticism.
Daughter was a cheerleader beauty,
blonde effervescence.
Petite strength,
with her smile of enthusiasm,
tossed up in adolescent flight..
Friday night varsity football games,
roaring bonfire for the Homecoming
in October's night of a crisp chill.
High school boyfriend faded into
nostalgia's mist of memories.
Twenty-four years have passed,
a Mom in her forties,
my grandchildren her joy.
Two decades of life's rewards,
some sorrow.
Alma mater moments-
those times are reborn,
verve. ~
In halls of learning, wisdom's crown,
Stood a dad with love profound.
His days of guiding minds are done,
But memories bright, they'll still be spun.
With patience vast and knowledge deep,
He stirred young hearts from sleep.
In every lesson, a gentle hand,
Guiding futures, shaping lands.
Though he bids the classroom adieu,
His legacy, forever true.
For in the hearts of those he taught,
His wisdom's flame will ne'er be caught.
Retirement beckons, a tranquil shore,
Where dreams anew he'll now explore.
But in the tapestry of days gone by,
His influence, a soaring sky.
So here's to you, dear dad of mine,
Your journey's end, a grand design.
Your teachings echo, forever near,
In every mind you've helped steer.
As you retire with grace and cheer,
Know your impact is crystal clear.
In the story of education's art,
You'll forever hold a cherished part.