I was cleaning up some stuff when I came across an old poem I had written back when in school. It was for some competition and we had to do something creative on sleep(other than dreaming ;)). Since I was dreadful with the brush, I decided to go in for a poem. Here it is:
Sleep! Oh! Sleep!
What a bliss to sleep
Not a care, not a stare
Not a need to check your fare
Nourishing the withered body
Preventing a work that's shoddy
Soothing the tired brow
Refreshing thoughts needed to know
Done by all without fail.
Otherwise life would become stale
A gift of God, I'd surely say
Lack of it, a heavy price we'd pay!
It was so funny reading it now but then I do remember that I was really happy with my poem back then! Come on! None of my friends could write rhymes(that is it surely!) and I can make up my own. Ah! Those were golden days! We never had a care in the world, were never touched by anything bad or cruel or violent, had loads of fun with friends who wanted nothing but time to run and play around with them, a good snack when we got home, mothers and grandmothers to fuss on us( they still do but lesser. They think I know what is best and let me my own way, which, though exalting at times, is a big responsibility and a sure sign that I've to fast get into the adult world) and make us do what is good for health and life. And, my sentiments for sleep haven't changed a bit. They have only increased. Now, isn't that a sign of me still in childhood? ;)