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In schooldays my aim was terribly perfect
add to that an attitude unfair
a soft teacher was an easy found target
not one bald head was allowed to be spared.

The moment the poor man turned to blackboard
his baldness shined as a gaming site
the sleeping devil woke up and deep roared
dispatched were chalks on windborne flight.

Only a few did land on wrong place
but found mostly their rightful targets
and bore no qualm the thrower's face
when cheered by the fellow classmates.

As the victim turned with ire's full steam
nursing stings that came with good force
we in the gang were such an honest team
never revealed it came from what source.

It went on smooth till luck failed one day
has to end all games one once starts
a traitor midst us the secret gave away
memory of the thrashing badly hurts.
Forgive me teachers for I have sinned against thee.
Chestnut trees and memories
of schooldays not in school.
Smoking trees under those trees,
never one for rules.
The evenings dark
up in the park.
The twilight and the haze.
Forever, there's a part of me,
embedded in those days.

The way we laughed,
refused to cry,
at all life had to give.
Underneath those starlit skies,
easier to forgive.
Underneath the laughing moon,
those days,
they ended way to soon.
 Dec 2022 MrunaliniDNimbalkar
V
If you don't heal what hurt you,

You'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.
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There used to be a bottle on the wall.
It was very green.
I'm sure it was the loneliest green bottle
that I had ever seen
It used to sit on the wall
all day and all night
And every day, when I looked out of the window,
it was always in my line of sight
Then one day, a cat came along.
Something was going to happen; I could tell
The cat then accidentally nudged it
and off the wall, it fell
When it had fallen off the wall
it had dropped with a very loud sound.
There were all these little pieces of the green bottle
all over the ground
Then the cat yelped
and I knew it had gotten hurt
I could quite obviously see its paws were caked in
blood and dirt
The bottle wasn't harmful in the beginning
it did not look the slightest bit treacherous
but after a nudge in the wrong direction
it became very dangerous
Now I look back at you smiling
next to me on the big armchair
Your fingers running through your soft locks of hair.
You remind me a lot
of that green bottle.
In the beginning, you were harmless
you were all sorts of fun.
Now you hurt me.
Could you tell me why
as I don't quite know what I've done
Press me against you
Like flowers in a book
How to become a poet:
Let someone rip your soul apart.
And in the need of mending ,
You will replace it with words.

As it dawned upon them
It was their final chance
To dance through the night

And they danced
Donning the colours
Of the new dawn

As it was
The final countdown
To forevermore

For the words to forge
The unwritten
The written, Unforged
Had been away for a very long time
Hope you all are doing well
Didn’t write much all this while
Hope to write read and share here
it wasn't until the sun rose
that I realized
just how much
I was in love with the moon
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