Through those glass doors
A wide spread horizon
All too familiar
That no one really wants to see
We are here everyday
When Friday comes everyone is excited
To go home
When the weekend rolls around we see the
True beauty of the place
Empty, Dark and quiet
The weekend going by in a blink of an eye.
Monday come around
Hearing the mixed stories
Some don't remember
Some stayed home doing nothing
Bells ring and the hallways fill like a stamped
Kids pushing and shoving getting to their classes
Seniors thinking they are kings of the halls
Wishing we could go home
The minutes ticking by
Before we finally get to say
Goodbye