Learning after school
Stepping out of the place, where each day something I learned.
Nothing I extracted myself. Baked knowledge was served.
Something I grasped by choice and something I swallowed with force.
And something I rejected to learn, which aches my heart with remorse.
Now stepping into a busy place, where everyone lost in their mess,
Would not care to stress, for what I lack and what I possess.
Would I learn myself or fail in the every forthcoming test?
Would eagerness to learn stay or will I kill the zest?
Now stepping into a place where there might be no one to teach me.
Vague is vision, vague is journey, vague is destiny.
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Comments about this poem (Learning after school by Amann Aroraa )
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