My Locker

My locker holds the memories of people who've moved on.
My locker holds the stories of students long gone.
My locker has a missing hook, and its walls are cold and bare.
My lockers its on the top row, naked, and stares.
My locker watches passerbys going about their ways.
In my locker is where my notebooks safely stay.
My story is not yet over, my locker will know soon.
My story won't be the last, although it's over in early June.
So I wrote this poem for my locker, to show that I appreciate what it does. Well now it's finally over,
it's finished
it's done!