Sunday, August 21, 2011

An hour in our class...

Ten in the morning and we enter the class,
Run to the end and occupy the last,
The tardy heave a sigh of alas,
They are the strawman, we enjoy our laugh.

As the proffessor enters, we shut oursleves,
But then she calls, ' last benchers, ahead',
We try to hid from her evil eyes,
But all in vain as we fail in all our tries.

Saddend faces, we leave our thrones,
Slugging our way to the pauper's thrones,
Then she starts, with all her words,
Our heads bowed donw in sleepy worlds.

She chugs her way into the syllabus,
When we all say, 'ab bus!',
Bored to the extreme we resort to play,
Guess the word and find the place.

Your friends diaries are your best mates,
They are the ones, your sleep-preventing buddies,
Once foes, you are now best buddies,
You point the place, victory, no worries.

Here comes most important thing, the attendance sheet,
We fill it with signs and proxys,
The clock hits eleven and we shout,
'Ma'am time's up, leave us right now!'

She packs the things and readies to leave,
When we turn and talk, our hearts out till it sates,
But then comes the cold and irksome face,
Of the next teacher and the same story repeats once again...

9 comments:

  1. Good poem and I enjoyed reading it...

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  2. realy great

    raihan7.blogspot.com

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  3. oh thank you dilsha...nice of you!!! and im followin u on ur blog!

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  4. liked the ending rhymes...good work:-)

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  5. dear brother

    waiting for new mine touching poem

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  6. I'm a rhymin' type of lady so I really enjoyed reading this one, Soutik! :) :)

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