Those long corridors,
Those benches and desks,
The tree through which
Whistles through, the breeze
Happen to know the stories
That were woven in these storeys.
Those rickety chairs,
That canteen’s flavourful air,
Those classroom walls,
That heard that love is in the air.
Those were the days,
We tried to go our ways,
Teachers were friends and
Friends turned friends for life.
A glance at old pictures
Or the autograph signatures,
Rekindle those moments
And bring a smile at this moment.
Kirti V
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