An old shuttered school, forgotten by time, Where cobwebs cling and rusted pipes chime. Windows boarded, bricks stained black, It dares the brave… and none come back. It started with a dare, a reckless game, To spend one night, a claim to fame. “Prove you’re brave,” the others cried, So Johnny stepped in, eyes open wide. He slid down the chute, coal dust in his lungs, Basement shadows hummed low, then sung. He flicked his lighter, a fragile glow, Lit walls that whispered things he shouldn't know. Old desks groaned, floor tiles cracked, Rats hissed through the walls with cracks. He moved a file cabinet, dust thick as smoke, And there… a tunnel beneath the cloak. Crawling forward, heart pounding fast, He met a figure, a face from the past. The ghost of a janitor, eyes hollow with grime, Vanished in 30's… now lost in time. He screamed, he ran, but the halls wouldn’t end, Every corner twisted, every wall bent. Outside the school walls, the sun began to rise, But Johnny was gone, no last goodbyes. His friends returned, calling his name, But the school stood silent, playing its game. No footprints left, just cold cement, Another soul claimed by the school’s lament...
