The chime of the school bell,
A melody from a bygone time,
Whispers of days knee-high to my father,
A doll backpack, a blue uniform's chime,
And a round white hat nestled under my chin.

The old school window creaks,
A portal to memories unfurled.
A shortcut, not the door it seemed,
When I snuck in a bit late from the world.

Behind the teacher's desk, I would hide,
In my mother's lap, a whimper arose.
My courage shrank in front of my father's stride,
A tiny sprout yearning to grow.

There were times I stood waiting
By that worn and familiar door,
Hoping for a small coin, a sweet anticipating,
Enough to buy a treat, just for me,
A moment of joy beneath the morning dew ,

I open the...