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winds.
Dhruv Tekker

winds

THE BOY SMILED A LITTLE, AS A BREZE TOUCHED HIS FACE.

HE WAS SITTIING IN HIS CLASSROOM,WRITING THIS POEM.

HE FELT FREE AS HE SMILED AND THEN QUESTIONED,

"WHAT IS IT ALL FOR?"

"A GOOD FUTURE OFCOURSE"SAID ONE PART OF HIS BRAIN.

"WHAT IS GOOD FUTURE ANYWAYS?"THE OTHER WONDERED.

THE BOY WAS NEVER HAPPY

NOR WAS HE CREATIVE OR INNOVATIVE.

HE  WAS CURIOUS THOUGH,"WHY AM I SO DULL?"

 

ANOTHER BREEZE BLEW

IN THROUGH THE WINDOW.

"I HATE THIS SCHOOL" HE THOUGHT  "AND EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS LIFE"

"IF THIS IS MY LIFE WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO BE HAPPY?'

"THEY SAY WE DIE IN 100 YEARS,SHOULDN'T WE BE HAPPY FOR THESE YEARS?"

"IF NOT WHY LIVE?"

 

AS THE LAST BREEZE BLEW

THE STUDENTS LOOKED OUT OF THE WINDOW,

A BOY WAS LYING  IN A POOL OF BLOOD. 

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