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A hot girlfriend, a hot-shot job and the 5th years still leave crying


The fifth years are leaving:

The mooters are leaving, the debaters are leaving,

Their trophies, proudly in the library sit,

Smiling at the newer faces.


The researchers are leaving, the writers are leaving.

Their books and papers in the glass cupboard

Tell us of the words they wrote...

Their words tell us of the lives they lived.


The cricketers are leaving, the footballers are leaving.

That hundred is remembered, that goal is remembered.

That ovation is remembered...

An ovation they will always receive.


An LPO owner will get cracking at his work,

Associates at Amarchand will descend to various cities,

Clerks in the Supreme Court will all start anew...

They all did their jobs brilliantly.


Boyfriends are leaving, girlfriends are leaving.

Some together (would-be husband and wives),

Some broken! Ah! An exile...

Their kisses are leaving; the affection still has after effects.


Trying to capture five years

In a measly, mawkish, FB statuses...

Boys are crying, coz they are leaving

Five years of memories, in a building, six storied.


A flight is cancelled,

“I’ll go a day later”

Girls are leaving; days are fleeting...

Fifth years are leaving.


                                                                           -Legal Poet

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