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Bronze Poet

Class two memories

Class two memories
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This emptiness of a room

Takes me memories into the green

Years countable by sticks of a broom

Maybe one and nine…maybe nineteen


Day one in class two

A kid so tender, lonely and timid

It wasn’t like any of the places I’d been to

Bullies for classmates, so sharp-I was an aphid


That crooked chair I sat in…

The hard cement floor I fell on

The mockery and scorn, pressed me thin

On that day, my sun never shone


Only that lovely cutie who dusted me with passion

Her name, Shina…she’s remained unforgotten

Maybe we two were too young for attraction

But damn…the fire in her eyes left such a lasting impression.


In memory of that class two Indian girl……lots of love….now that I understand

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