This is my absolute favorite poem..

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveler long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other as just as fair
and having perhaps the better claim
for it was grassy and needed wear
though as for the passing there
had worn them really about the same
Each that day equally lay
in leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I'd save the first for another day
yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted that I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a shy
somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and I..I took the one less traveled by
and that has made all the difference
Robert Frost

Or maybe try on this little tastey lick..

How time flys when your having fun
I guess thats what they say
Well the class of 88 must have really had fun
Because Oh, how times slipped away
Remember when we were in the first and second grade never thinking time would end
Now here we are, seniors of 88, soon to depart from our friends
We none could wait, till we'd graduate
but when that day does come
there will be tears for the old life
and fears for the new life thats begun
Some will succeed, some will not
Some will remember, some will have forgot
but to everyone I want to say
Live everyday like it was your last
Because Oh, how time slips away
Wade Gray (1988)

OK...I am no Robert Frost, but it was early in my poemetical career...(that is a word..you don't need to check it)

I recall "Senior 88 kix Ass" being painted on top of the gym...can't remember who did the painting, but I'm sure who ever did it is sorry about the repair bill coming out of the senior fund! Then there were the fire extinguishers that turned up missing from the hall way cabinets...and a few of the school buses? The motor cycle up the hallway, pipe bombs, a dead shunk in the ceiling tile of the ninth grade boys toilet, slipping into the crawl space between the boys and girls latrines standing on the water pipes and spying on the girls in their restroom....dance hall wax on the slope of the freshmen lockers (but that was Mr. Clayton) and many other situations I'd rather discuss in person.

Oh and what I wrote above about Poemetical being a word...well, I guess thats not exactly true.