E-Paper
Surfer's poem: Life
A tiny infant seed, the purest form of human breed, grows, grows and grows, Flows, flows and flows, writes Srishti Punjani.
A tiny infant seed
The purest form of human breed,
Grows, grows and grows
Flows, flows and flows
He grows up to be a naughty child
He is restless he is wild
With vibrant activity he bustles
Like a thunderstorm he rustles
Now he becomes a confident teen,
His personality pleasant his eyes so keen
His green hair, his refreshing face,
Living life at his own pace
He now turns to a confident man
Bearing the burden of his whole clan
His stern and compassionate look
Innumerous stones he shook
With aggravating wrinkles he becomes old
His hair now greyhens breath now cold
His cheeks droop, his eyes sink
And he is over in a blink.
With phases vaxing-vaning
With storms fast prevailing
For every happiness did he strife
In a beautiful journey called life.
Srishti Punjani
Mata Jai Kaur Public School, New Delhi
bonkerhead@hotmail.com
