Four floors. 

It has four floors worth of memory,

High and low

The rooftop

It’s large fence caging us in,

But I got used to it,

Enjoy it

The shouts and screams of friends swishing their way through a game of knockout

The view of our dank city beyond the netting,

Four stories below

The third floor

Home to classrooms and the library 

Memories of getting scolded 

For being too loud in the halls,

Promising we’ll be quiet, 

But somehow that band of promise finds a way to break

Three stories below

The second floor

Home to my classroom,

Along with my struggles 

This was my floor

My friends

My mischief 

This was our place for the long and winding fifth grade year

This was five years of school swept up into one floor

Two floors below

 The first floor

The entrance to the place that I call

“Mine”

The hallways filled with the squeak of my shoes

This is the floor where I met my people 

This is where the highs and lows began

One story below