Each block finds a place in art

Marcus here. Decided to post this poem of the last day at orphanage. ^^

Each block finds a place in art
Plastic bricks built from their heart

Pencils scratch on papered floors
Draw open life's infinite doors

Folded sheets of nature's wood
Rivet the ceilings with pristine good

Melodic rhymes and nurseric beats
Fill the rooms with alacritous feets

Whispered words with he who reads
Brings to light their daily needs

Plans were buried in sunburnt clay
Innocent musings had swept the day

Everyone's tied by an invisble cord.
Though each orphan's on his own accord.

Heyhey guys! Liren here, and here's a poem about the trip. It's not very good so =X

I remember the
Crunch
Of unsweet mangos

Sitting in a bus
Waiting
For bicycles to be assembled

And I remember
Feeling welcome
In a place I had no relation to

And now that I’m back
In a home, in a life
I find myself

Rushing backwards
For all that I felt
Trying, to keep it real

Memories
Of eden overgrown
Between mansions

Of climbing bars
Attached to the sides
Of houses

Of piping
In soil
In roads

Of sunsets
Marred by rust

Reminders

To look underneath
Our expectations
To what was actually

There
And to keep, and treasure
Till I could pass it on, and even after

I remember the taste
Of crunchy,
Unsweet, mangoes

My hope
Is that
One day,

You will too.