Ode To Schoollife Poem by Moz Rauf

In my dreams, sometimes,
Your eyes turn, black and white,
And we stare the black-board together,
Till the speeding chalk, screams a dirty noise.
And whenever I look outside the corner window of the classroom,
The sun would always, quietly smile,
Down that empty hockey field,
Where, we would make smoke-rings,
As wild as my beloved’s raven eyes!

Now you know how I played hide and seek,
With my killing numerical plight,
Whenever the mathematics teacher cried:
“Matrixes, my boys, are a way of life! ”

Now that the numbers are written all over my face,
And the smoke-rings have flown to a distant space,
I know how well the matrixes rhyme,
And why not to wake up in the middle of a dream!