Meenas PoemsFive days in a week
I go without a sneak
two more days of the week
make me sneak.
I sniff and smell a lot
nothing much to give a thought
I go about in a sort
casting on the way, not a doubt.
The seven days pass as such
I move about in a stretch
I cross the length and breadth
almost with great strength.
Years have rolled on as well
the clocks continue to strike the bell
noise has rocked like hell
as I look at my life through a shell.
The primary school next to my house
presents a picture of grouse
space very limited for improvement
children stay in without movement
the teachers shout from morn to evening
the children follow with no understanding
it is mechanical, mind you
a recital without a clue
begins with the vernacular
goes with English in a manner jocular
then comes the counting in rote
with the rhymes in a shrieky note
on the whole, it is chaos
till the evening when the little ones
bid cheerio
a great relief to me from the din and noise
and to the kids from the venue of their parent’s choice
Meenas Poems 