I miss those days,
When in the corridors we roamed,
To skip the boring lectures,
My school was my part-time home.
Carving our names on benches,
For we wanted our school to remember us,
Being the best batch was the aim,
Did what not for the same.
Teachers always taught with a smile,
We literally breathed out our “Good Morning” to them
They always gave their best,
Yet we realized their importance a little late.
Batchmates were a special part,
The soft corner of each heart,
Making our problems into bits of fun,
Marks affected the friendships of none.
Being groomed by the best souls,
Life offered us it’s best phase,
Now that this chapter has closed,
I miss those days.