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It's there - 
but it's not.

The bricks, 
the stone,
the hallways.
Even the posters

still fill the walls 
as if eagerly waiting for 
another school year to begin.

New worlds to invent,
New stories to tell,
New faces to love.

Some would say the building was broken,
But I say the world is.

I believe it would wait there forever
to be filled with that life again,
but instead it withers away,
hoping we don't forget.

I miss it all this time of year.
That distinct smell of freshly waxed floors,
and the heat that permeated through its air.
I miss the patchwork carpet in 222,
and the conversations shared inside its walls.

Conversations about mockingbirds and semi-colons
and carousels and dreams.

And just like the building,
we're there - 
but we're not.

Carrying with us its lessons,
its power,
its uniqueness that only us who walked the halls
understand.

And when that last brick falls
and all that was will be, 
we'll stand -
and remember.