I have walked past countless times,
each time driven by a single mind,
driven to meet someone, go somewhere.
Leaving the tiles behind.
Plain are the dull brown tiles,
smooth, and unremarkable.
Never calling for attention,
whilst being a witness to our babble.
I have seen four years of tiles,
four years of ever fading brown.
Four years of selfless service,
and being trod upon.
Few remember the tiles,
and the tiles do not mind.
The road to our purposes,
that we chose to leave behind.
Walking on the tiles underfoot,
strolling, striding countless miles
to get where we need to be,
on the backs of the deep brown tiles
Now I tread the worn down tiles,
for the last time I ever can
too little thanks too late,
for the support on which I stand
Parth Vaitha, 12 AICE