Poems That Speak

My school life was boring unless I joined the elective classes for poetics. Everyone had different opinion on poems. So some said it is boring, which I also agreed, some said it is the expressing of one's heart out, which I always disagreed. How can someone do that? Nobody can unless they under go a surgery, I was always firm in my opinions. 

But sometimes we have to rewrite our opinions and of course I did that.

Most of the students joined the poetic class as it was simple and easy but my case was different. I just wanted to see him more and more- yes, it is him Mr. Andrew, our teacher of poetic class. 

I can see him more that was all I want. The love poems that he read always made my mind glow as if he was addressing me. I was more attentive in those classes which my friends couldn't believe at all. 

I smiled at him when ever I can (of course it was to seek his attention). Did all my works on the right time( but they were not perfect. It doesn't matter right? Because I tried). To sum up I tried to be the perfect kid.

It was in mid of the year that I began to get negative thoughts- what if he marries another? What if he went to another school? What if he gets kidnapped by the wind and what if I couldn't do nothing?..........Even though I felt I was crazy, I found my thoughts reasonable too. I have to convey my love! But how? Of course I tried most of the tricks from the book- " Tricks to convey your feelings". But I tell you, I wasted all my money (So don't try them). I felt as if I was sinking deep down the sea .

That is when I saw a ray of hope from some where up high ( the ray was not from a torch- I am sure about it). It was about the time of the school carnival that he expressed an idea of presenting a poem as part of our elective class. At first I found it boring but something strikes up- what if I convey my feelings through a poem like in the movie

"feelings" (of course it is an imaginary movie). 

I started writing and it was easy words were spread through my pen as if it always wanted to. Pen was pen, words were mine, paper was from the nearby store but some things felt different.....

It was the day to present my poem -

"Come sit by my side

And let's play the game of chess,

You be the king,

And I will be your queen,

And we have the people by our side,

We can ride on the horse,

Cheer each other through the ride,

And let us win the game."

Everyone clapped. I felt relieved as if I was freed from the cage. I looked at his face he was happy with the poem but what about my feelings? Didn't he listen my words?, Should I read it again?.....

"Class dispersed" He announced.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"- I cried deep inside. Leave it, may be it is not my day, let's try it again some other day.

I packed my bag and stepped out of the class. Then suddenly I felt some one touching my shoulder. I turned- it was him - My Andres.

" May be I could play chess sometime"

He said.

.......................................................................................

( Ofcourse the story ends here because the narrator died from the shock that instant )