Sweet Past

There's nothing worse than a floored school day,

Snoring, wriggling myself like a dead,

I wended my thoughts to past holidays.

I stood and started spurting from my bed,

singing son, polishing teeth I broke my fast.

I peeked outside on that bright fine ray,

It was like a life of the ancient last.

This increases my adrenalin for making hay,

I ran to the ground to game with my pal.

I retraced to my nest longing for rest,

The drubbing play makes us wet, and ground a canal.

Days were those like no trace of angst.

I opened my eyes, books on my desk wide,

O! its a school day, I kept my memories aside.

Reviews

[John]

I am a beginner.......i write poems when i'm free. I showed my poem to my teachers and many of the senior people...but to no avail. They din't make out time for reading it...I wanted to know about my poem.....how good it is ?? Please let me know about my talent if it can be used further or not.
This one was written when i used to miss my holidays during schooldays.