Poetry

POETRY

Little Little Old Car

Little little old car leaking petrol every hour. Now I have such a mess to clean. Why are you trying to be mean? You go slow up the hill and run fast when you go downhill. You sip up petrol like a drink. And waste half of it leaking it.

You’re the one wasting my money and pouring my hard work into the Ganga. What kind of machine are you? I’m really fed up of you. For which I don’t need you anymore. Cause I’m gonna sell you off abroad.

Little little old car. How I wonder what machine you are?

- Reubin Devis, Class 8 J

LIMERICK

One day, I was driving a car To a place very far On a road made of tar To meet a man with a scar Because he is my father and a star.

- Manish Kokapeta, Miriyala and Joel Nissi Class 7 L

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