THE TRUE MARTYR

The true Martyr

He entered through the door,
With an infectious smile on his face,
Seeing the empty seats galore,
He entered the class with a daze!

Glancing the professor, the only human in class,
He took his seat, embarrassing his own ‘bunker’ fame,
Feeling like a total jackass,
He said to himself-God, I take thy name.

‘Help me from the haplessness that’s gonna come,
let my heart not cease breathing,
lemme not yield to boredom,
with this book in my hand, I am not leaving.‘

He thought about sex,
He thought about gals,
Nevertheless, his weariness he couldn’t vex,
As he was forlorn, without his pals.

Then the bell rung dong ding,
But, he succumbed to his boredom,
At the funeral they said,
‘He was at heart a fighter,
so,
This bench is dedicated to the famous martyr,
Who died, waiting for the bell to ring.’