Shackles Upon Me

By Farhan Arfeen

Out of the window, I glance.

Cold breeze kissing my cheeks.

The sun was still in the east,

The birds fluttering and chirping.

The school buildings perpendicular to one another,

The field empty, with only flowers and trees lining the corners.

Classes went on throughout - voices of the teachers,

Some giggling, some comments, mingled along with some perusing.

For my consciousness, it flew beyond the unremitting literature lesson

Not bound by the written lines, pursuing its own ones.

I see a march of boys - a straight single line,

All with hands folded to their backs.

Time to time, one among 'em would gaze up to the sky,

At the winged falcons gliding overhead.

I too felt the need of possessing wings today,

I too desired of escaping through the window and fly away.

By Farhan Arfeen