A Poem about my Campus

To my North,

gusts of gales rousing my hair to life,

sun setting as I run in a continuous loop,

face striped in purple paint.

 

To my East,

dim light flickering from the outside,

rows of authors waiting patiently

to be opened, discovered.

 

To my South,

a place of laughter, animated chatter and

best memories over potatoes in

any imaginable form.

 

To my West,

the fountain stands proud, the heart of campus,

not to be caught on the wrong side

in the wild wind.

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