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The story of a boy

ROHIT KUMAR Mar 23, 20182 Responses

This is no story

Of great people or places,

But holds the glory

Of people’s private spaces.


This is the one

Which has the perfect plot,

Where feelings can stay

And hit on the spot.


The story of a boy

Who was always shy,

People couldn’t understand

Why sometimes he used to cry.


He was adopted

But his parents were nice,

Yet memories of past

Made him cold as ice.


He sought out solace

And made new friends,

Stood away from mobile or games

Which was not a general trend.


His parents were concerned

And so inquired,

Asked what was the problem

Or what he desired.


He replied he was fine

And said the need was time,

But his heart yelled the pain

Of losing something divine.


Days and nights went on

While the life took its form,

School time was over

And college boasted its norm.


Friends and family distanced

And he was left alone,

To face the great battle

And offered to be torn.


But a hope was there

To find someone right,

Which would change his life

With all his might.


His wish was granted

And a friend was found,

Finally, there was someone

Whose argument was sound.


Their names were similar

And so seemed their fate,

For their life’s story

Rose from the same gate.


Both were adopted

And escaped from past,

Which held the secrets

To chill the spine and heart.


They didn’t know

What to do with life,

For their miseries seemed to

Cut through like a knife.


So both decided

To do something new,

Which could only be

Imagined by the few.


They opened a club

To help the children,

Whose parents were dead

And left them an orphan.


People thought

It was a charity,

Which could never last

Till the posterity.


But the club

Proved them wrong,

Done great deeds

And wrote their song.


It opened banks

Schools and hospital,

Which made the city

A flourishing capital.


People were astonished

As the boy became the mayor,

Brought peace to the city

And held everyone with care.


He became the father

Of every broken child,

Took them out of extremes

And brought them to the mild.


But his friend went missing

And he was concerned,

As none could recall

And no one even mourned.


And so he came out

To find his friend on street,

And yell at him

Because it was not at all sweet.


He thought he saw

His friend come under a bus,

And so he ran

By making all the fuss.


But when he reached

He couldn’t find anyone,

But now he felt

The weight on him was cumbersome.


The last thing he heard

Were the words of his friend,

“One who plays with time

Has to meet this end”.








  • Varun
    Varun Chawla

    Really interesting. It is a good story and poem to boot. Like the ending a lot.

  • ROHIT-KUMAR-(IPM-2016-21-Batch)

    Thank you, Sir. I thought to come up with something different and exciting this time. Hopefully, I am successful.