Its a song i sing in my mind,
A rhythm I’m versed with,
A tune i know that fits the grind,
A melancholy myth.

Every morning when that bell goes,
Stepping shoes pace quick,
Into the classroom that bestows,
Wisdom in us while the books trick.

Chitter-chatter surrounds the walls,
At times the corridors hear our echo,
Like a thunderbolt the teacher falls,
Terming us a menace in Art Deco.

Today when life cycle repeats,
We see our journey through those benches,
Where once we endured countless repeats,
And now the next solely trenches.

-Adelene Coelho


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