They pass by, playful yet full of life.
I see them through the window
Wondering when my turn will come.
Goodbyes are passed as they rush out.
Mother scolds them for being late but still she smiles.
Each day passes with pain inside my little chest.
I hear of all the stories from them when they come back.
I listen yet I do not understand.
I am happy they are back,
To me it feels they had been gone for long.
Pencils, rulers, books, satchels
Is all I see all over the table, their purpose I do not know
Eager to play makes them restless
Yet I have been playing the whole day.
It seems they had fun, but how do I not know when they all smile.
They have come back home, mother listens.
I am forgotten for a moment but still in the room.
Their life is busy doing what mother calls homework.
I am put on the corner, playing like I have been for the whole day.
I still watch as they work.
I crawl, I scream for attention.
I talk, they all listen but do not understand.
Happy is what I am that they are back.
For a moment life is normal until the next morning.
When will my turn come when I will grow up and go to school?