Box Of Memories- Poem

He tucked his child in bed to sleep

In the still of the silent night

He yawned, but he had work to do

Office chores by the night lamp’s light

When from the corner of his weary eyes

A stowed away box he spied

He inched his way towards it

Swept decades of dust off its side

In mild curiosity it was opened

And these were the box’s contains:

Picture albums in black and white

Snippets of past, childhood’s remains.

The 40 year old gazed at himself

Locked in mother’s embrace

Twelve years old, young, carefree

Now a tear rolled down his face

He turn the page and stared

His heart heavier as he went on

The days with his own family

Those beautiful days were gone.

He close his eyes; before him flashed

The day which held the most regret

At 19, he had left his parents

Whom he had sworn to forget.

From a distance came a voice

“Daddy?” he heard his princess say

He yearned she’d never leave her papa

Like he abandoned his one day.

“I’m coming my love,” he smiled

Giving her soft hand a little squeeze

The lights came off and he slept,

Remembering that box of memories.

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Just A Minute

In DPS, the school I go to, their is an annual session held called ‘Just A Minute’, short for JAM. A specific student from their entire grade is chosen and at the great day they are given a topic and have to speak on it for a complete minute. No more, no less, on the spot. This year and also the year before I was selected, and I’d like to tell you how I felt in the form of a poem…:

Slouching in the backstage,
Knees knocking in fright
A couple seconds later
I’d go into the glaring light.
Me. Alone. The audience.
That’s it. I’d have to speak.
My head focused on the topic
My brain bright, body bleak.
I wouldn’t see the on-lookers
In the dark Audi where they sit
But the spotlight right upon me
They’ll see me. This is it!
TAPASMI! Calls the narrator.
Oop! It’s my turn!
My hair is flying past me
My insides begin to churn.
My topic to me is given.
I see it on my chit.
Suddenly I’m elated
My eyes are bright and lit.
Ideas pile inside me.
I begin to say all.
This is easy and quite awesome
In light-headedness I might fall.
So much I want to share
So much I want to tell
I converse with audience
Before rings the bell.
Chat-chat, tell-tell,
I overload with speech
Till the very last happy moment
I hang on like a leech.
And, oh, the victory!
First prize I have won!
My friends begin to hug me
And upon me shines the Sun.