Why, Oh Why, My Mom, Don'T See My Cry
'O' mom, O' mom..
Am sweet baby,
Thou love the most;
Mom a preceptor and
Play partner of mine;
Cohere me in arms,
Never left alone;
Inspired me in each stage,
Taught me from crawling,
To walk then talk;
Stage by stage I learned
All primary needs of life;
Situation changed,
When reached at 4,
Mom shoved me to school,
From play school to Lkg, Ukg,
Then to grade one and so on..,
In my play and learning age;
Why, oh why, my mom,
Don't see my cry;
I carry load of books,
More than my weight;
The purpose don't know yet;
I learn more, while I play,
Than cramming bulky filthy books;
As a cub learns chasing prey,
While in play with mom;
The torture doesn't end here;
I go to tuition, copy and paste,
From the books to brain;
Cram lessons over and over,
Rehearse verbally and write,
Until Ego of mom or teachers,
Is quenched;
Scares me, haunts in dreams too,
The stress and mental agony,
Is severely painful and tiring;
The pain I endure,
During school and home work,
Is more torturing,
Than hardship of a child worker,
In farm or factory;
Can you spare us some freedom,
For our own dream, creative plays,
To evolve our own instinct;
We are kids, don't bury us,
Under your snide ego,
And heavy unneeded books;
As even eagle before the prey,
Pinpoints distance, speed, timing,
And agility of the prey and self,
Without the help of mathematics
In books;
Animals too know the saving,
Leftover for future,
After quenching hunger,
Without the books of economics,
We are taught;
The experience teaches,
Than the books;
© sadashivan nair
Copyright © Sadashivan Nair | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment