Brush

 

The sketch portrays what I see,

and not what she truly is.

All colourful yet fuzzy

for unpaintable her fizz.

So I let my brush tinker

to give some shape to my thoughts.

For false paint should not linger,

and depict what she is not.

I dribble, scribble and fuss,

and yet less speaks the canvas.

School

 

Chaos reigns at the entrance-

of cars, buses, bikes and us.

The place was our pathway once

now jostles without purpose.

Here one competes for wisdom

for a culture bright, graphic.

Unaware running random

amidst unruly traffic.

Hope the knowledge educates

that learning is at the gate.