Aug 4, 20221 min
Tarang Gupta 10F
In the bleak midwinter,
There stood a boy
Hoping to call his dad
And say ahoy.
His mum was dead,
His dad had left,
And he stood there breathless;
While God stood there heartlessly taking his test,
He tried his best
But he was not destined to rest
He shivers, he quivers,
And he’s threatened by beevers.
He hears the cold wind whistle,
His hopes are little,
His body is whittled.
He grumbled, he fumbled,
And during his last breath
His grievances were what he mumbled,
While his hopes crumbled.
He saw his life flash away,
He saw his younger brother play.
For him death was relentless that day
And soon the sun ray went fray.
His heart was filled with hate,
He was made into a bait.
He spoke softly,
In tête-à-tête “Why thou choseth me for death,
I ponder, why hath
I be made to surrender.
I hadn’t hurtest thee
‘Save me’ this is my only earnest plea.”