The home, which I miss the most

Five years of my life, I spent there,

Those days I miss have gone somewhere.

Lost in the boundless tide of time,

I want those moments back, which were mine.

Those days I remember when I played cricket with a racquet,

Those nights I will not forget in which we created a racket.

A shout here and a laughter there,

The warden comes looking everywhere.

We coined him with the name black mamba,

He sure did not know a thing about chumbawamba.

The inter-house matches were so intense,

That people would forget that they were living in the present tense.

Chewing their nails and thumping our feet,

The Sequins never saw the face of defeat.

It was a home away from home

At night after ten, we were not allowed to roam

A water fight in the middle of the night,

In the summer, it sure improved our plight.

The powder dropped on the floor,

If at home, I would be listening to folklore.

The fist fight I don’t know what will it bring,

Next day my parent’s phone is sure to ring.

Five years of my life, I spent there,

Those days I miss have gone somewhere.

Lost in the boundless tide of time,

I want those moments back, which were mine.