Ode To First Day Of School No. 18

In first grade I got brand-new Crayons;
In second, I wore a new blouse.
Third: a recorder to play on,
Or to squeak, as it were, like a mouse.
The first day of fourth grade meant stencils
To write cursive letters in fifth.
Slap bracelets made great utensils
For trading with neighbors in sixth.
Seventh and eighth were “between” years,
Stuck in the middle school pits,
New looks of scorning from seniors
And, thanks to the hormones, new zits.
High school turned quickly to college
With new buildings to find my way ‘round -
Lost in a new sea of knowledge
If it weren’t for the News, I’d have drowned.
My eighteenth full year as a student
Has started with nary a quirk
But newness? Well...maybe it’s prudent
To look for a new line of work.