“Whose child is this?”

We asked one day

Seeing a little one out at play

“Mine”, said the parent with a tender smile

“Mine to keep a little while

To bathe his hands and comb his hair

To tell him what he is to wear

To prepare him that he may always be good

And each day do the things he should”

“Whose child is this?”

We asked again

As the door opened and someone came in

“Mine”, said the teacher with the same tender smile

“Mine, to keep just for a little while

To teach him how to be gentle and kind

To train and direct his dear little mind

To help him live by every rule

And get the best he can from school”

“Whose child is this?”

We asked once more

Just as the little one entered the door

“Ours” said the parent and the teacher as they smiled

And each took a hand of the little child

“Ours to love and train together

Ours this blessed task forever.”

<B>Natasha Julleekeea & Satyam Ramcharan, Teachers, N.Saddul G.S</B>

I came as tomorrow

Swaddled in innocence

To your warm lap, father,

As cosmic blessing,

Without your choice or mine,

Destined to update, with time,

Our family tree,

But before my voice breaks out

And puberty ripens for procreation

My cradle toy time,

Your lewdness cuts short

And teen/daughter pregnancy

Becomes my transcendence-

Our home a lewd shed

Where beasts lie.

<B>Yoonoos PEERBOCUS</B>