My Town.

You go to my town.

People are there golden brown.

Blue and black are their eyes.


My town is famous,

Famous for long trees,

Famous for small hills.

Once, a king kept there his crown.

Slept, a long sleep.

Looked for far,

And planted trees.

The king’s place is the fort now.

The place where he used to hunt,

They have made an enclosure,

Beneath the sun.

And now call it an animal park.

The brown people mostly laugh,

They are old stuff.

You know them,

They are all friendly and helpful.

And have known many good stories.

Will you go to my town?

Will you go and pick some Margosa leaves?

Will you give me my name,

If they have remembered me.

Will you pay homage to my town?

My legs can’t climb the hills.

Can’t shake hands with the browns.

Looking at the starry sky,

I try to remember,

Where I learnt noun, verb and pronoun.


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