Poem.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The primary days of life…
In Primary 1 I was innocent,
Young and cute, short and chubby.
I took the school bus there.
A big building stood greeted me
Small and big kids.
Running around in the parade square.
Excitement surge in me.
I rush down to join.
In Primary 2 I was arrogant
I entered the best class
But I’m not the best child
I was the last child, in the best class.
Grades don’t make a sound to me.
Neither does my progress slip.
In Primary 3 and 4
I achieve well in math
People like me,
I like school.
I get arrogant.
People dislike me.
I hate school.
In Primary 5 and 6
Pressure arrived.
4 Letters , just 4.
No more no less.
That was what I had prepared for,
Through my primary school life.
Time was a breeze.
Without knowing, I was on the stage.
Smiling to the camera,
For I am ranked 2nd
Sweet memories
Bitter memories
I can still remember.
The days in canteen.
When we mixed vitagen and Laksa soup.
When we shoot ice with straws
When we fought with fish ball sticks.
So many, so many.
So many till I can write a book.
Titled, ‘The canteen in my school’
I remember the time,
I faked my reading challenge.
I wrote down books without reading.
So I could get an ultraman badge.
Below the character was some tiny words.
It says “Ultimate reader”
I didn’t care much about that.
I only wanted a badge.
I also remember the time,
My buddy gave me money,
To keep me quiet.
That bought me a few fishball.
Not to mention,
That we played table tennis,
Using hardcover books.
The things are just too many to mention in a poem.
I could write a series.
All about my primary days…
Ahhh…If only I could live it through again.
Never will I live it a different way.
Nothing shall change.






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