HELMET

Seated in the dusty shelf in my class,

Lies an old, blue helmet.

Oh! Its three black stripes,

Indicate its sadness.

It lies there forever,

Lonely and still.

Nobody wonders how useful it would've been,

When it had an owner.

It would have been hard as diamond,

Strong as SHAKTHIMAAN.

Protecting the owner on road,

And from cops, of course!