In the quiet hum of morning’s light,
Desks align like soldiers in a row,
Whispering secrets in the shadows,
Where dreams and chalk-dust gently flow.

The blackboard holds a world unknown,
Scribbles of thought and wonder bright,
Echoes of lessons softly spoken,
In the silence of the night.

Sunbeams dance through window panes,
Casting light on eager minds,
Pages turn with rustling grace,
As knowledge in each corner finds.

A place where questions dare to bloom,
Among the whispers and the sighs,
The classroom holds a tapestry,
Of countless dreams beneath its skies.