I'll miss you, Agnes Scott

I'll miss you, Agnes Scott.
I'll miss the daily morning commute down Covington highway
I'll miss the way your fancy teacups were occasionaly dirty
I'll miss the silk worms that trap many a passerby
I'll miss the widespread reputation of your polite young ladies
I'll miss that handfull of amazing bitches who did their best to shatter that reputation
I'll miss those occasional misaligned bricks that have tumbled many and will tumble many more
I'll miss the way your teachers teach more than what the textbook has written
I'll miss all of the flip flops "In the winter?"
I'll miss the way your pizzas are sometimes fully baked, sometimes not
I'll miss the contageous and never-ending effort to hold the door for the person behind you
I'll miss your freakishly green grass
Always greeen. Always.
I'll miss the way your pancakes are perfect
I'll miss the paintings of amazing people whom I've never cared to learn more about
I'll miss those pink flowers that flourish in the winter but shrivel away in the spring
I'll miss the way everyone sits crosslegged in any chair, anywhere
I'll miss the spiral staircase in the library
I'll miss those awful "get to know you" games for first-years
I'll miss the the way your cooking staff is all black, a small dose of reality on a fairy-tale campus
I'll miss the Spanish speaking construction and maitanence
I'll miss the way everyone who catches your glance while walking immediatley averts their eyes
What more can I say?
There are too many things to record.
So I have tried to capture the sensation of being a part of you
So now, I can visit you whenenever
When I close my eyes
I can feel you