The School of Thought

A poem about thinking

There’s no towering walls, Nor corridors too cold, No dormitory curfew, Nor buildings too old.

This place is much different, It’s bigger and bright, Where students are not people, They’re spheres of pure light.

Thoughts that are roaming, One lesson to another, Reflection and Curiosity, Are the subjects they’ll cover.

Exams are not warranted, Just essays and art, Abstract introspection, That’s how you stay smart.

It’s entirely subjective, There’s no curriculum that’s taught. And you are the Headmaster, At this School of Thought.