Carved into these walls are memories I can never forget Each inch tells a story of its own But these walls once so safe Don’t seem to be anymore. Roaming within these walls are ghosts of the past Enjoying the serene shadows cast by these picture frames But these new cracks don’t seem to fit into the pictures in my mind Nor do they please the ghosts who call this place their own. Walls, Oh! These walls Whisper to me the detailed stories of my past Their faces are a vibrant yellow From all the warmth they have felt. But they bleed a dark grey powder Walls, Oh! These walls What are you doing? What are you trying to prove? You are not supposed to move like this. These walls are supposed to be strong Like they’ve always been Even though the lands beneath them refuse to stay still Moving along these walls I still feel their love. I still feel safe because these walls are all I have ever known If they choose to come down I know I will fall with them Because these are the walls which I call my home. — Emerald Tuladhar, SLC, Maitri School