The Last Year

In the milk white building, the place where the dreams soar,

We’ve happened to be there for years before.

Four floors high and separated by two blocks,

The school was filled with student flocks. 

We walked the halls, rooms and the corridor,

That we left a long lasting memory forever.

Our laughters filled the air, created echoes of our voice

The teachers felt those were noise.

They do not know our mentality, Rather,

They would try to be in rationality.

But they would’ve also crossed our age,

This might be the consequence of their wisdom’s cage.

The walls whispers the secret, but it is known,

For the one who listens with keen.

“Don’t forget me, for which you will never return.

But remember me well, in every friend that you discern.

As you step forward, let your memories burn,

In the heart of this place, where your soul did yearn.”



In these halls, where our laughter once did blend,

Each moment shared, a treasure without end.

The echoes of our joy, forever sewn,

Into the fabric of memories we’ve grown.

As we part ways, let not our bond untwine,

For in each friend, the light of school will shine.

– B. Krishna