Pellucid crystals and saffron stones,
Sugary soil and dying undertones,
I look and look and look
I look at the green stalk turn away,
Besieged by a yellow light,
And the flowery pink
Now a mere grease in my ashtray,
The moonstones are sinking deep
Deeper into the soil
It’s difficult for me to look through,
Oh! I wish it wasn’t this astray.
Guess singing to it wasn’t enough
Neither was talking
So I’m left here thinking about
How poetic it is,
To be poetic about something so miniscule,
And what a pity it is,
To see my life growing old
Through a small terrarium in a glass jar.
– Mira Sehgal, Amity International School, Noida
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