You are given a short poem which is written by a kid. Your task is to predict if the kid is in elementary school or high school. Anyone who is from grade 1st to 6th-grade will be considered as in elementary school, and 7th to 12th-grade kids will be considered as in high school. There are only two possible outputs, i.e., elementary and high. All inputs have at least one output and it cannot have both categories at a time.

friend be real cool like whip cream and pool they always play thing that you would like too they make you happy when you be sad they say funny joke and do n't make you mad friend be there forever and ever to keep within your heart like a treasure friend be real special and so be you too and friend be what make a funner life for you
elementary

at a campfire i sit on a tire and that campfire melt the tire so i hide the tire from the fire
elementary

i be five full of life happiness joy and delight there come a mighty storm late at night twist around my childhood dream take my happiness and take my life grab my joy kill my bunny ruin my wooden house and knock down the slide i have a little bike my foot be little still would not reach the ground before mount every day i would measure my height hop to grow before it be night a i have to go to bed to get ready for yet another ride in the dream i have my leg where long they could reach the paddle and ride on the cloud i would then happily yell and feel the pride all have now disappear at a glance the dream vanish the cloud turn black the color of the blue sky also change all at once back to the ground i do not find my bike i only see the bunny who share the ride the bunny be wound and bleed so hard i run to my mother mother be daze and horrify she look at the bunny and say it have die i bury it in the garden with a broken part of my heart my heart be now shatter it miss some part the bunny take one i have already give a piece to the cloud it use to draw me lambs when it be all white but when change color it break my heart i be only five my heart make out of glass it pound so easy when touch the ground now i be in late thirty my heart still cry it be not glass anymore it turn into scrap though still pound when sens something harsh my daughter be grow she turn five last night the cold be approach and i fear the storm it memory engrave in my soul and mind and many trace of it still find i be alert and cautious but the storm be so tough i be build an iron fence around her heart to fight the storm no matter how hard i hope i manage before time run out

high