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Sania Harris

Farewell, Dear Teacher

For some, you may be the candle
But for me, you are the light
That showed me how to handle
Even the daunting without fright

For some, your eyes may be warm
But for me, they are bright
They showed me the right platform
Leading me to a greater height

For some, you may be spring
But for me, you are the flowers
That groomed me little wings
To fly higher than the towers

For some, you may be a teacher
But for me, you are an angel
And angel whom I’ll never forget
But for now, it is ‘farewell’

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I Hate You!

I hate those dimples in your cheek
Deep, hidden and dark
I hate your eyes that glaze frost blue
Ardent but rank atop of many lies
I hate your soft, subtle hands
Slipping away every moment
I hate your thoughts and notions
Crammed with terrible weird concepts
I hate the way you get mad
For every trivial, feeble reason

I hate you in everyway now…
The way you hate everyone…
Your smile, your depth, your eyes!
Not sure, but I am good at telling lies!

I hate you…I do…
‘Cause you hate me…
And you have hurt me...

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The Moment (barack Hussain Obama’s Inauguration)

The moment of Obama’s inauguration
Was a fluke of fate written for the nation

It was a moment to be cherished
For all citizens including the perished

It was a moment that brought glory
For abandoning the discriminatory

It was a moment that scribbled in history
And will be every child’s bed-time story

It was a moment that castigated treason
And brought in for the future, a reason

It was a moment that penalized felony
A moment the history foresaw

It was a moment that put an end to racism
Making every black and white equally blossom

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Blissful Life

Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby to where Africa grew
He was taken to a vast family of six
A family of black and white all a mix
He grew up in dearth, beginning by birth
But nothing stopped him ever, being a blissful mirth
He tilled the soil and asked for toil
And lived in grains forgetting his pains
He prized his time and saved his dime
And lived a life worth greater than words

Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby where Africa grew
In looks he was poor, but inside he was pure
He was worthy of every touch
And worthy of the lot much
He lives a life of pleasure
Having love as his biggest treasure

Over Parshington, a white stroke flew

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Identity Crisis!

When born, I was called “baby”
And later they called me “Abby”
Within 5 years they called me “student”
And for 7 years, like that I spent
Then they called me “teen”
I loved it and felt like a queen
Then I was called “woman”
And those times, were the best
Then some one tied a knot and called me “wife”
I hated those times, it was horrible and gross
In years I became “mother”
It was beautiful but tough
Then being called “grandma”
My times got better and better
Then at last I was called “old”
And my body was frail and cold
All this time I wondered,
Where my identity has gone
Some where in the middle, I had lost it
Through the ages, I had a crisis

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I Am Sorry! ! !

I am sorry for talking behind your back
Sorry for calling you a black

I am sorry for spreading rumors about you
Sorry for sticking your notebook with glue

I am sorry for dating the boy you loved
Sorry for scattering the snow you shoved

I am sorry for showing you the wrong way
Sorry for making you involve in a fray

I am sorry for breaking you favorite toy
Sorry for calling you a scared-boy

I am sorry for calling you a fool
Sorry for using you as a tool

I am sorry for taking your things away
Sorry for making your hair green with spray

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Not So Little- Little Boy

I wonder if it intended irony
Or sarcasm meant, perhaps
For ‘Little Boy’ it is so-called
And a devilish feat
He portrayed, hundreds of thousands
Allay as deep. Aye! No words endorsed

And I still wonder, like I marvelled
Then, a joke? I couldn’t laugh
It slandered out and that was all
Whats next? I merely reasoned
Mama made me run, naked
As I wondered, where my clothes?

Then I moaned and hushed it
I dozed and wondered if I did
‘Cause real as fire, not funny yet
I whimpered with soundless cries
Treaded on men as i moved, heads
Said sorry but who did judge?

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A Confer With Life

One day life asked me
What I was doing in this world
If not to love or to pass on strength
Then why, o son of Adam, you live?

Waking up from a vague dream
I looked upon life and answered
I am here to have fun all day long
And to attain my dream, to gain success

With a giggle and a chuckle
Life sniggered and asked
If to attain your dream, why you sleep
Rouse, o son of Adam, rouse

Agitated from my sweet sleep
I glared at life and said
To dream, I fall into a long serene sleep
And then I dream, I dream, I dream

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The Lonely Classroom

Walking through the lonely roads
Passing by the lonely trees
Picking up a flower or two
To please my lonely teacher

These lonely roads they lead
To a huge lonely school
The bells have long rung and gone
But laughter, it still rings

I walk in to a lonely room
With chairs messed apart
The blackboard, chalky washed
And pencil scribbles on tables

Looking at nearly every seat
I see me seated there
Friends surrounding me
And laughing crazy geese

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My Sister Left Home...part I

My sister is leaving home
Leaving ever for Rome
Her return is to be history
Enchanted by an untold mystery

I hated her, oh-so much
Her and her stupid lot of friends
Bossy, screaming, arrogant girls
Oh- I’m so happy she’s leaving home!

No more knocking before entering
No more kicking and screaming
I don’t have to listen to her muttering
And a big room, I’ll get to myself at last
Oh- I’m so happy she’s leaving home!

No more tears, no more cry
No more fear or dark red eyes
I can chat so long, no one to bother
Oh- I’m so happy she’s leaving home!

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