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