From Bell to bell; And Puddle to muddle.
From the playground that called; To the lab that hauled.
Under the mischievous bench; On the carefree desk.
From the rendezvous greets; To the clandestine meets.
I've seen you run; I've seen you fall.
To break every rule; Was the only rule.
And the elders got a chance; to call you a fool.
Albeit the world; was a grey zone.
You used to weave; A world of your own.
From tussle to whistle; From unite to scatter.
With innocence instilled; Your world was a lot flatter.
I now see you pass; On the other side of the grass.
The clock has ticked; and the time has passed.
Same are the benches; The way you left last.
I yearn you come; And fill that empty class.
Failure doesn't matter; Neither does pass.
I say that your class; Was the one with class.
For each his own - The School
