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In the glass hours of morning I am back in the lecture hall With my uniform, bag and everything Amid the class teacher’s frenzied roll call. Roll no.9 she shouts out I’m here ma’am no doubt Me she gives a grim look I hide my face in a book. She rises with duster and chalk I force on myself a silence Pretending to hear her talk Holding onto my brittle patience. She goes on and on and on Her babbles pouring like rain Soon my defenses are all gone Staying awake becomes a burden. I get away into my dreamland Far from the stiffness of rules Where I dance holding the fairy’s hand And there are no syllabus and schools. My dream is so cute and cool A freedom of endless peace Till my ears feel the stinging pull You’re sleeping? Shouts the Miss!
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
In the Classroom
In the glass hours of morning I am back in the lecture hall With my uniform, bag and everything Amid the class teacher’s frenzied roll call. Roll no.9 she shouts out I’m here ma’am no doubt Me she gives a grim look I hide my face in a book. She rises with duster and chalk I force on myself a silence Pretending to hear her talk Holding onto my brittle patience. She goes on and on and on Her babbles pouring like rain Soon my defenses are all gone Staying awake becomes a burden. I get away into my dreamland Far from the stiffness of rules Where I dance holding the fairy’s hand And there are no syllabus and schools. My dream is so cute and cool A freedom of endless peace Till my ears feel the stinging pull You’re sleeping? Shouts the Miss!
pradip-chattopadhyay
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
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