You must read this poem

It is like the brain in you.
I have a screen called monitor,
On which you can see pictures and letters.
The keys present on my keyboard,
Help you to type many words.
I even have a part called mouse,
Not like the one which sometimes enters our houses.
There is a part called speaker,
Which enables you to listen to music louder.
Printer helps you to take out prints
For this, it uses special type of ink.
For storing information you can use C.D.,
Any time you use, information will be ready.
I am delicate look after me carefully,
If you follow this, I’ll be useful to you surely.
But if you hurt me here and there,
And don’t give me proper care,
It will be loss to not only my parts,
But also for you; if I don’t start!
Nimitha S Prabhu IX ‘B’ Kendriya Bidyalaya, BEML Nagar, K.G.F.
A girl’s prayer

A girl on her way back home,
From the school when she was returning,
suddenly, black clouds formed in the sky,
And it started raining.
The rains didn’t seem to stop,
As minutes and hours passed by,
She took shelter in a bus stop,
And then began to cry.
Wading through the gushing waters,
searching her home here and there,
She stood beside her little hut,
Which was beyond repair.
Eyes flooded with tears,
Skin pale and pink,
Her thirst increased for water,
But not a drop to drink.
No chocolates, no biscuits,
No rice, dal or a drop of honey,
No shops, no markets,
Her purse empty without-money.
Braving her heart,
Looking at the sky.
She questioned god.
“Why are you pushing me to die??”
Nimitha S Prabhu IX ‘B’ Kendriya Bidyalaya, BEML Nagar, K.G.F.

I am a 500 Rupee note
Today my story I am going to quote,
I was born in Reserve Bank of India,
When I was born, I have no idea.
I and my friends were sent in a box,
Which had one opening and two heavy locks.
On the way our van was stopped,
And our driver was caught.
We heard many gunshots,
Our van was surrounded by dacoits.
They took us to a village,
Where there was a marriage.
The whole stack including me,
Were given to the bride for dowry.
The bride gave me to a beauty parlour,
From there I went to a grocer.
And then the owner of a bar,
Atlast to the driver of a car.
I was beautiful once upon a time,
My body crispy and full of shine.
Today it is soaked with grease,
I want to look beautiful: Don’t hurt me please.

Nimitha S Prabhu IX ‘B’ Kendriya Bidyalaya, BEML Nagar, K.G.F.

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