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A Child Is A Child.


The Child misses her childhood.


I observe in silence,

I hear in magnitude,

I see in-depth,

That is what I can do.

A child begins her day,

Setting aside everything gay,

Pushing back all her play,

Switching on to the rigorous fray.

 

She gets ready in a hurry,

Breaks her fast in a flurry,

Casting her likes in a bury,

She walks up in a slurry.

 

Still sleep lingers in her eyes,

As she opens her reader to a size,

Pouring over the book in a guise,

She follows the teacher with a despise.

 

From school she comes home,

Falls asleep in her cosy bedroom,

The little girl finds no time to bloom,

Eventually she has to face the doom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

One reply on “A Child Is A Child.”

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