Not being sharp as a knife,
In your school life.
Not being busy, not being stressed,
Except the fear of test.
Neither any tension of placement, nor of job,
The main motive was to stay on top.
The laughs, the jokes you crack,
Remember they won’t ever come back.
Best period is of class eight, seven and six,
When your seat didn’t get fix,
Starting a friend circle, convincing mom n dad,
For that everyone goes mad.
Then comes one’s birthday,
Planning to go to the bay.
Leaving the circle one can never say,
And debates for the money and way.
Now it is time to choose the stream,
Staying together always is your dream.
Group breaks, you scream,
Can’t help parent’s seem.
After this is the last year,
Losing the loved one’s is the fear.
Leads you to bring a tear,
And you become a volunteer.
You cry on day one and as well on last,
You can never forget this past.
The emotions joined are so cool,
And this can only happen in a school.
Visit our Facebook Page : Little Authors | Facebook