A word for them

Oh, I feel the stabbing,

Oh, it’s true deep inside my heart,

Oh, yes tears flowed too,

Rolling down the rubicund cheeks,

I walk inside the wooden door,

The room busy since then,

Piles of, heaps of enormous handwritten papers,

Time to take rest when?

Besides the typing sound, vibrating through my eardrum,

Are you busy too? Question arise,

As I stood in front of my mum,

She stressed out, stretched straight forward,

Sitting on the black chair,

Completing her office work,

“Will you play with me?” I hesitantly stared,

Though she could not, but deep inside,

Her heart wants,

Hoping she would get free soon,

Time brewed, I fed up, longed!

Another day came, with a blink of an eye,

When I woke, she went to work,

I couldn’t even say a good bye,

“Will you spend time with me?”

Again, I asked, hoping she would buy some time,

“Sorry dear, just a minute!”

That’s all I heard the last time,

Many years had pass since then,

Same scene pictured day by day,

Now finally, I’ve grown up,

She now has time, but I can’t play!

JAYANI MATTU, CLASS IX

RYAN INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL, PATIALA