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On This Ground
I sit down,
My back against the same tree you rested on
The clear view of our huge school ground
Flooded my vision.
I remember those times when you'd run in this ground
When you'd take classes and also hung out,
Everyone loved, admired and adored you,
You were the centre of attention
You were the icon, of our institution.
Even then,
Time did not leave you out
It took you with it
You had to go just like any other.
This small world,
In this school
It was all yours,
But you had to leave it too.
It's so hard, so different, without you,
So different, yet nothing changed.
Daily lives were led, lessons were taken,
Children were playing once again.
You took everything with you, yet you took nothing with you.
I look down on the ground,
Grass sprouting from its earth.
I remember, on this very ground, on its grass and soil,
We both walked.
The same grass had withered, the soil turned to dust.
But somewhere on this ground,
Lay those withered grass, the dust of that day,
They did not fade away.
Maybe somewhere, in your house,
Or in the bin where you throw your trash,
Somewhere lies your uniform, your batch and your plaque
Which you once wore, proudly and shinning brightly,
Now they lie covered in dust.
Your power, honour, pride and dreams,
Flew away like a speck of dust,
Like heat in rain.
On this school ground, you played,
Filling it with full of life and colour,
That same ground, is so dead,
Yet not less lively today.
I wonder, the teachers here, working for decades,
They saw us come, grow up and leave.
I wonder, if they look back as well,
Or maybe they get used to people leaving as well?
On this same ground, you grew up
On this school, somewhere,
Lies the desk you sat on.
Your name, scribbled on walls and desks,
Lay forgotten now, or used by someone else.
Nothing faded, everything's here,
Here in this world,
Even if turned to dust,
Everything is still here.
You are still living, somewhere on this earth,
But those days you spent here,
Playing and living and laughing,
They are no more.
Your fingerprints erased,
Your presence left,
Your name, on the absent book,
Lay somewhere, on an empty desk.
They are no more.
I look up at the sky,
Maybe somewhere in the sky,
Is the breath you exhaled.
Maybe somewhere in silence,
You look up at the moon as well.
We are connected in every way,
Yet disconnected in every way.
The sun rays fall upon me,
As they fell upon you.
Time is a blackhole,
Sucking away everything.
I wonder how many students played on this ground,
How many stories unfolded,
And how many heart got broken.
So many emotions, so many people, so many stories.
These moments will pass,
We'll leave,
We'll leave behind the school that gave us everything.
Our everything will eventually become our nothing.
Only this school will be remaining,
Watching us come, and watching us leaving.
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No matter how popular, awesome or whatsoever you were in your school, you'll have to leave it someday. This poem, is about a senior who is an icon of a school. The senior is loved and praised by all for their talent in sports. A junior, a mere fan, thinks about how that person had to leave this school, despite being an icon of the same school. Sitting under the same tree her senior once sat, she started pondering about the once-upon-a-time star.