Supplementary

Life goes blurry,
All you do is worry,
And pack your things in a hurry,
To write that supplementary!

Some feel sorry,
Others wish to be run over by a lorry,
But we all feel worried
When fate gifts us a supplementary.

Passing marks we hope to get & pray,
Knowing nothing in the corridors we stray,
Staring at each other in exam hall we stay,
And after an hour in canteen, samosa's bill we pay.

Beside the hay we yet come & sit every morning,
To smile at each other & watch crowds churning.
With every minute feeling something in us burning,
Just say additional sheet & you'd see every head turning.

A few fall in this trap by chance,
Then be forced to obey the rules of this hall dance.
It has become a relation of never ending romance,
Between us & that never ending supplementary.

Every year while walking in again,
Willing to take every risk some copy some sit regretting it in pain.
With only having a pen to defend,
This tag attached to us we students someday wish to end.