By Ishu Pal
When on the last seat
Of my class I sat,
Thinking no special thing
In my life I had;
Past a second, I went to sleep,
Clearly had in my dream I had seen:
Four little lads in a line were standing,
Each of them gave a smile of mirth.
What's the reason for that smile,
Clearly which was visible from a mile?
The one sitting at first in the row
Met with an accident a year ago.
A prepossessing pair of shoes lay near his tummy.
"These are the ones for which I fight with Mummy."
I cried, "You will look exquisite wearing them, I bet!"
The boy replied, "Surely they will, but the thing is—I don't have a leg."
The next one carried a bunch of fresh flowers;
All were blooming except a tiny one.
"What's the reason for this distinctive bouquet?" I asked.
He answered with his eyes unmasked:
"The blooming ones are for the alluring things which are for free,
The crinkly one is because I can't see."
The third one was with white paper in his hand.
I asked, "Are you happy with your best hand?"
A voice replied, "Everything is fine, but there is a loophole too.
I have everything with me, but not a tongue to say 'THANK YOU'."
The fourth one seemed a bit sombre;
He was sitting in a loose posture.
"Is there any thought in which you are struck?"
He replied, "Was feeling a bit low, as I lack hands to wrap around someone and give a warm hug."
Just then, the school bell rang,
And I realised it was just a dream.
"Just"—but made me realise a great attribute:
To be thankful for what you have, and
To learn the art of "GRATITUDE."