Sonnet #155

It starts out so innocently,“You’re a senior, right?” they sayYou gulp down a bite of your foodHoping for a chance to run awayThey lean across the table menacinglyClearly ignoring the fear in your eyesThey open their mouths to ask that dreaded questionYou can see your impending demiseSuddenly they are speakingThose awful words forming on their lipsYou start sweating profusely, vision blurringYour sanity is beginning to slipFinally, the question comesThose words you hoped never to hear“So what colleges are you applying to?”You know more inquiries are nearThe interrogation commencesThey demand to know which college is your topYou scan the room for somewhere to take refugeWondering if the bombardment will ever stopYou become possessed by fearThoughts swirling around in your mindWhat college will you end up at?And once you get there, what will you find?You calm your panicked brainAnd try to put on a smile“I have to go now, but I’ll see you in a bit...well actually maybe quite a while.”