THE LAST CLASS

Well fellas I wrote this poem in the shortest time that I ever took in writing something of this length... I dunno whether it was my creativity that was at its best at this time or something else that inspired me so much (though I fear the possibility of the later was greater).... whatever gentlemen... I m not in a very good shape of mind post writing this....

THE LAST CLASS

The Last class over, I feel the tinge

The Last class over, and so is the binge

The last class over and everyone’s gone

The last class over and I feel alone...

The last class over and so are the happenings

The last class over, now I miss all these things

I miss the cases that I never read

And I miss the answers instantly made

I miss the presentations I first time saw

When I was on the dais with the open jaw

I miss speaking in the most gaseous forms

And fearing the questions from all the book worms

I miss those claps which meant to thank me

For ending the torture and let others free

I miss so much sitting in the last row

That used to go sold in the first bid though

I miss the planning that used to be done

For the evening party and the alcoholic fun

I miss sleeping sans sheets, pillows, bed

With the pyramid of bags in front of my head

I miss the movies on the corner seat

Clicking the pictures and priding the feat

I miss the white board with drawings filled

And writing before classes ‘The class cancelled’

I miss the launchers and all the paper balls

That kept on flying inside the four walls

I miss the proxies and their being caught

The sniggers, the empathies that absentees got

I miss that single name that single scapegoat

That used to bear brunt and always to dote!

I miss the fun, the love, the ridicule I got

All that I could mention and all that I could not

Now I curse the times when I bunked Alas!!

Why did this occur to me in the very last class?!

The last class over and I go insane,

Coz I very well know, it won’t come again...