He Is A Child

Poem By Ashish Sharma

The paint brush is moving in the air, creating creatures.
A big sized ball behind the wall, making signatures.
Ishaan's heart beats up, his mind shoots up doing literatures.
Books turns into flowers, insects turn into helicopters.
Numbers turn into pictures, pictures turn into posters.
Ishaan comes to school but don't likes class teachers.
Ishan writes 9*3=3, they are his own answers.
Its his own world and he don't want to be among losers.

Comments about He Is A Child

A brilliant poem. By the way whis is Ishaan?

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