Dedicated to Terry Miller who is our English Teacher on Mondays. Thank you so much Terry, having you every week makes life so much more exciting. We really enjoy doing your homework. Love you. Nitya, Abin, Utu, Shaswat, Kusma, Niva, Sushmita, Pukar, and Vidheha.


The ribbon
by Nitya Poudel

Thousands of feet walk on me, run on me, and hurt me.
I am used. Everyone from beggars to richest tread on me.
Every second I am hurt, weight is placed on my head.
But I am strong: very, very strong.
Thousands of stalls near me keep company.
Thousands of houses stay by my side.  
I am gravel and I am asphalt.
Rain bathes me (nice) but dust settles and I am again dirty.
When people walk, they throw things on me
I don’t like this a bit.
I spread and snake all over the world from villages simple to big cities grand.
  


The mystery 
by Utkrishta Mulmi

I am hairy but soft
I am of a dangerous animal 
Some still think cute. 
A tag on my back, 
two cute ears, eyes and a button-like nose.
On one leg writing says Carter’s who had created me. 
A tiny t-shirt on body. 
Some poke and take cotton out of body,
some me as cushion: I am as big as a pillow
I have friend who’s like me but black and white while I am brown.
I am a gift. 
Beloved, thrown, and torn.


What am I? 
by Susmita Gongba 

I am something
You always need.
On you 
don’t like mice 
Mice always bite. 
Clean me and I am beautiful
and I am happy to be who I am. 


I am
by Shaswat Badal

Everybody watches me 
I am as small as a computer, as big as a window
They buy me at a very high price.
Mostly liked by children, 
funny. Watched by the old, 
newsy. Women listen to music 
watch pretty dancing.

I entertain and make happiness and tears.
I am in most homes and add feelings.
Somebody breaks me and I die, 
sometimes, I get parts and a new life.
I like they who love me so. 
I am happy and excited with them.


What am I? 
by Abin Rai

I am something, 
that you need, always.
You need me whole day and night.
People cannot stop what I say. 
They break me easy.
I am many. What I am?                    


That’s me
by Pukar Gautam
I capture memories, be they good or bad. 
Then transfer them to a printer.
Then hang up those memories. 
I have taken up your wall.
When you put memories on a wall, 
the wall looks gorgeous and beautiful, 
the memories hang around for ages.
Fathers, mothers, grandparents, ancestors.


You tell me
by Kusma Gongba 

I am something.            
People hit
with a bat.

I come in lots of colors 

Throw me. 
I can bounce a lot
I am?