Yearbook Poems - Poems about Yearbook

With the cover designed by a student (In a contest where everyone tried), The yearbook impressed And, as you might have guessed, Pumped 5th graders and parents with pride. Filled with photos, including class pictures From their very first year up ‘til now, Every child’s beaming face Showed in every place That the layouts would neatly allow. There were pages for each of the seniors, With...

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When I heard an old friend from high school was sick I picked up my high school yearbook from the shelf were it has stood. and when I opened it…I paused…it smelled like childhood. I hadn’t seen this friend for many years but we’ve kind of kept in touch and much to my delight I found a picture of the...

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I'm searching my school yearbook once again; I have not done so in a while, and see them looking back at me- as when they were so young- each with a smile. And here they are, as I knew everyone- still teens, carefree- their lives ahead not knowing if their years planned a long-run- or sadly be cut off instead. I scan each...

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Dusty from the basement was my yearbook. Through the molded pages I did take a look remembering the days when life was so carefree. Was that young girl with hopeful smile really me? So many other pages with the hopeful smiles, Belinda, Sandra, Samuel, William and yes Kyle. So many pages stuck together from ill care. Can’t remember what was ever pictured...

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Flipping through the pages Skimming the dried ink So many questions it raises Oh, the many things I think Who are these young faces And where are they, today Though they left many traces Green, they couldn’t stay The smell of aged paper Nostalgia hits my nose 20th century flavor Ketamine and blow They wrote of their “tomorrow” But that was yesterday I feel a bit of sorrow They’ve surly...

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The Yearbook The years have since gone by— aged seniors now are we. I scan each page to see lost friends with teary eye; then note, with relieved sigh, some are still here with me. Our yearbook is online— my high school friends all there. But posted clear to share, a list beneath a sign of those who crossed the line and climbed our Heaven's stair. Salutes to...

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He wrote inside my 9th grade yearbook: "I'd like to get with you inside a kayak." Today I would respond: "Your kisses were so heavenly, but you abandoned me. So it's a 'no' to me and you together in a small canoe!" Dedicated to my first kiss, Glenn, a real son-of-a-preacher man....

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I see your stuttering on paper in criss-crosses and muffled writing. Years have past; your confusion still lives on these glossy pages. Was it a confession? You know this too well, but a cool breeze lies at the end of this hell. Was it something more sinister?-- it doesn't get better, so I'll just wish you good luck. I wish I had asked you. All I...

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Silence has taken it’s toll on me A breeze sifts through the light fabrics of my shirt Stalling time In the yearbook for the blind. Creeping upon me is the quiet of the air Forever captured in never-ending scenery The soft daylight reaching through to the reader’s sensitive fingertips Miniature lush green leaves of miniature trees forever held in place. I stand frozen...

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