The Good Old Days

By Mansi Jani

At the tender age of three,

dreams unfolded and life was carefree.

World of wonder, innocence, and ease,

whispered nursery rhymes in blooming peace.

At the tender age of six,

where each moment had its mix.

Subjects like arts in a playful fix,

everyday surprises with its diverse tricks.

At the tender age of twelve, I began to delve,

breaking free from my junior shell.

With grades that cast like a vital spell.

All triumph stories my heart could tell.

At eighteen’s gate, a curious teen,

eager for change, from school I am leaving.

Facing the world, nostalgia’s haze,

longing for the charm of the good old days.

By Mansi Jani