This is the ninth poem in a series of poems that explore what the commonplace objects in a student’s life would say if they underwent an Enid Blyton-esque change overnight, and could speak.
“Didi’ calls a voice,
A familiar one,
Room ABC has to be cleaned;
I sigh in joy –
Which turns out like an earthquake –
But really, I’m so ready to gleam;
I’ve been stomped on
And scratched at,
My floor deserves a raise;
Suitcase wheels to
Piled up meals –
I do not get enough praise;
And when it’s time
For a Semester’s end
You pull posters off my walls;
It hurts but
You don’t seem to
Care at all;
For when it’s time
And a new Semester
Starts again,
I will have to
Relive this cycle
Of pain.
