Oct 2015
every morning deafening our ears to the tick tick clock
We wake still wandering in the dreams overnight
Cleaning and purging out yesterdays twisted tales
We begin a new today yet embracing the glorious
Story of our grandma and mellifluous lullaby of the Past NIGHT
Ringing are the bells of our doors
The van man- so we call him the boogie man of our dreams
Somehow manages to find our home and takE us away
Some have tears not to go & some joining to be with
These brave and tiny comrades
Not to forget the audacity of ours while
We wave our hands to those who rose us from casket
Till the end of time and then …. van man taking a devious U turn
Some still crying ,some trying to devour sandwiches
Some inconcoction of food and mind and heart
That genuinely defines innocence
Then finally the squeak of gate that challenges our today
That rough building in grey white façade and the nerdy beings
We always try to keep them in sidelines
All set up nicely to churn out a typical school day if its YET another
Soon the dictators take over ,their sharp eyes weeding out
The imperfections and anomalies ,Even the overly dressed are ruled out
The morning blossoms , like the denizens of a cavalry – daddy’s second wife
We make a perfect geometry .
Standing in queue wondering what would happen next
Ears and minds both listening to the chirping of birds around
Nose tasting the delicious breeze of hot noodles from others satchel
But our eyes watering and stuck at blabbering of an old fat lady on the platform
Our hands made to handcuffed by these megalomaniac
And some heads are down and eyes shut..
All waiting for this “*******” Elvis to leave the show
A loud ring of bell that curtains a mundane beginning
Ahead we march with our hands on back to Azkabans
Only to be released after “capital punishments”
As expected the class is empty inviting us to fill
With ruckus and impudence but being innocent at the same time
Some gibbering ,some giggling ,some drawing on a million dollar wall
All have gathered to make the blasphemous walls and time
Sordid tales in the chapters, are beautified with snakes and ladders
Lady in white dress in the front page is embellished with the imaginations of a pretty girl
Covers in the books are the experimental laboratories to Some
Its The last page where we begin reading today
Some sees in the magic in Turning the pages in seconds with thumbs
And how they see the indents and letters dancing
Nothing is real here except the paranoids who are convening the class
Rushing to empty the bowels are some, and some plundering others Bread roll
Some just talking to selves ,troubling the maids wetting the floor
All but none complain.. Such harmony the nature gifts us
Waiting for the last Run that ends the cruelty of today
Because of which we know what that noon Twelve looks like on the clock
All eyes forgetting the day’s animosity finally yearning to be once again
In the BoOgie man’S Van that shall drive us Home
Back to the Cuddle of Mommies and Daddies
We “WERE “ THEIR PRIZED POSSESSION ,
Aren’t We?
We wake still wandering in the dreams overnight
Cleaning and purging out yesterdays twisted tales
We begin a new today yet embracing the glorious
Story of our grandma and mellifluous lullaby of the Past NIGHT
Ringing are the bells of our doors
The van man- so we call him the boogie man of our dreams
Somehow manages to find our home and takE us away
Some have tears not to go & some joining to be with
These brave and tiny comrades
Not to forget the audacity of ours while
We wave our hands to those who rose us from casket
Till the end of time and then …. van man taking a devious U turn
Some still crying ,some trying to devour sandwiches
Some inconcoction of food and mind and heart
That genuinely defines innocence
Then finally the squeak of gate that challenges our today
That rough building in grey white façade and the nerdy beings
We always try to keep them in sidelines
All set up nicely to churn out a typical school day if its YET another
Soon the dictators take over ,their sharp eyes weeding out
The imperfections and anomalies ,Even the overly dressed are ruled out
The morning blossoms , like the denizens of a cavalry – daddy’s second wife
We make a perfect geometry .
Standing in queue wondering what would happen next
Ears and minds both listening to the chirping of birds around
Nose tasting the delicious breeze of hot noodles from others satchel
But our eyes watering and stuck at blabbering of an old fat lady on the platform
Our hands made to handcuffed by these megalomaniac
And some heads are down and eyes shut..
All waiting for this “*******” Elvis to leave the show
A loud ring of bell that curtains a mundane beginning
Ahead we march with our hands on back to Azkabans
Only to be released after “capital punishments”
As expected the class is empty inviting us to fill
With ruckus and impudence but being innocent at the same time
Some gibbering ,some giggling ,some drawing on a million dollar wall
All have gathered to make the blasphemous walls and time
Sordid tales in the chapters, are beautified with snakes and ladders
Lady in white dress in the front page is embellished with the imaginations of a pretty girl
Covers in the books are the experimental laboratories to Some
Its The last page where we begin reading today
Some sees in the magic in Turning the pages in seconds with thumbs
And how they see the indents and letters dancing
Nothing is real here except the paranoids who are convening the class
Rushing to empty the bowels are some, and some plundering others Bread roll
Some just talking to selves ,troubling the maids wetting the floor
All but none complain.. Such harmony the nature gifts us
Waiting for the last Run that ends the cruelty of today
Because of which we know what that noon Twelve looks like on the clock
All eyes forgetting the day’s animosity finally yearning to be once again
In the BoOgie man’S Van that shall drive us Home
Back to the Cuddle of Mommies and Daddies
We “WERE “ THEIR PRIZED POSSESSION ,
Aren’t We?
