they say that concrete walls and locker rooms are not natural;
beings of man, raised up on metal cranes and wooden beams.
but i know that my school breathes: in, out. in, out. in, out.
it is a thousand climates. lights hang from the ceiling like stars.
i climb the stairs to my class like i climb a mountain.
people laugh and it is sun, people cry and it is rain.
new teachers, sick teachers, assemblies: climate change.
i walk hallways like i walk forest trails.
people tower beside me: giants. sequoias. jaguars.
strange and wonderful creatures. some snarl. some smile.
but then change.
i am leaving.
seeing the forest open up in front of me:
i have to find where every cave is. i have to feel the sun.
the creatures here are different. more adapted.
i walk the hallways again, and marvel at the things that change;
posters change. paint colors change. papers change. people change.
i am learning to change. things here are a different enviroment.
it breathes: in, out. in, out. in, out. i am breathed in.
changing schools is changing worlds.
i leave behind rain forests; step into coral reefs.
everything i've ever known is different.
but it isn't too bad. i've evolved to adapt. we've evolved to adapt.
At the the beginning of the school year, I started at a new school for the sixth time. This is a poem about that. (p.s this is the best school so far)