A semicolon represents a sentence the author could’ve ended but chose not to.
It’s been a while since I first walked through the halls of high school, and back then, I had eight hundred days. I had eight hundred days to walk through the halls of red and gold.I had eight hundred days to draw graphs and dissect frogs. I had eight hundred days to look for x and to keep asking why. I had eight hundred days to learn the difference between parallelisms and parabolas. I had eight hundred days to fix fragments and complete phrases. I had eight hundred days to form sentences and build paragraphs and tell stories.
But, beyond the basics, I had eight hundred days to figure out who I was and who I wanted to be. I had eight hundred days to find my place and to find myself. I had eight hundred days to find people worth keeping. I had eight hundred days to know about four hundred faces, and I had eight hundred days to memorize the feeling I have around each and every one of them.
Eight hundred days seemed so much back then, but now, it seems so little. Now that I have less than a hundred left, I’ve realized that eight hundred is but an only because it’s all we’ll ever have.
They say after 800 comes a goodbye. They say after 800 it would be the end. But, I beg to differ.
We will always come home.
We will always come back to the place that forged our identity. We will always return to the community that once gave its everything just so we could give our everything back. We will always go back to the halls that awakened our restless hearts.
We will always come back under the wings of the eagle that taught us how to unfurl our own, knowing that we’ll always have shelter.
We’ve left parts of our hearts in these halls, and our hearts will always lead us home.
So here’s a semicolon.
Here’s a semicolon to the kids of Neverland. Here’s a semicolon to the steadfast spirits that shine brighter than the golden sun. Here’s a semicolon to the story that will forever be frozen in time. Here’s a semicolon to the hearts that roar and to the fury that will never die.
Here’s a semicolon for the class of 2014 because this is not their end.
This is not our end.
My Last Editorial Piece
Special thanks to Jean Liwag for helping me with this
and credits to marlo, cassie, and tristan (The italicized part is an edited version of your song)