#WritcoPoemPrompt49 @AtulPurohit
The days of slate and chalk,
Are not easy to erase,
They hold memories,
Of my childhood,
a sweet and bitter taste,

I remember the black shoes and Khaki
the big pants and the looks,
School is not about clothes mom said, its about the mind and the books,

'ok' i replied
but all hope had died
ridicule was going to grip me
i would have to hide,
great place for that is probably the space the pants provide,

I went to school those days,
ridicules were not a few,
but i had company,
the big pants crew,

Insults were harsh and by no means suttle,
the only way to stay alive was with a strong rebuttal,
replies must be strong and quick like Ali's hits,
you must be good with words and have excellent wits

attack their weaknesses that hit would be critical,
but stay away from their mothers or things might get physical,
use little conscience,
always have an audience,
hit them when they are down,
give them no slack,
no parley, no room for a comeback,
eventually the big pants they ignore,
for when they weigh the risk and the rewards, the risks were more.
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