Life is a small box
With some pencils and an eraser
Each has a role play
But nothing lasts forever
The box opens and the life begins
Its ride on a roller-coaster
Is like those sharp and not so-so-sharp pencils
One pencil is a snake, the other is a ladder
We sharpen a pencil
We sharpen another
And so on we go on
Until they're just over
Some pencils turn out to be smooth
Like all those glib roads we walked on
Like those superb days with nothing to worry about
Like those giggles which will never corrode
They are like our achievements
Like those best things we did for others
We just wish to write with them as much as we can
But one day, the disappear
Another pencil then we pick
The moment we sharpen it, it breaks
''Oh crap!'' is what we say
Hell of our lives. That what it makes
They're like those rebukes
Like the immortal darkness of our lives
Like all those cruelties we suffered
Like that one doom which made us cry
They remind us of those days
When we laid alone. Completely alone
In our beds shedding tears
As if the world was not our home
The deteriorated pencils are like our faults
And one of them is like our hamartia
Due to which we couldn't pen
Our stories of happiness and nostalgia
But the eraser in the box
Possesses the extreme power
For it represents those urbane people in our lives
Who gave us a second chance
And one day, the box lies empty
We utter, ''oh no!''
To buy another box we rush
''Alas!'' the shop is closed
We try. We try
But it's too late
Our life ends
Leaving impressions; Oh! so great.
c'mon guys...... temme what lies in your box.....
here's a comment box... send me your stories..
may be one of your stories becomes the theme of my next work!!!!
read, like, share, enjoy and please comment....
tell me your story..... the story of your pencil box......
NANCY RUSTAGI
:);)
