They were here
O, they were here Only yesterday it seems… Every morning they marched on my chest Came and sat On these very chairs which still have their bum-prints They talked, they wrote, they danced And sometimes they did nothing They scribbled songs on the windows They stuck their work on my walls Put tiny chits here and there They were almost everywhere Sometimes they would pour out their heart Some in words and some in art At me, they would throw what they were feeling On my floor, my walls and my ceiling I belonged to them and they belonged to me And it went on for two weeks, may be Then they were gone They took all their work too Now my walls are bare My ceiling misses its dangling jewellery But I’m not complaining I still know all their little secrets They’ll come back for it some day Or maybe not Do I miss talking to them? O, they were here Only yesterday it seems…
March, 2011