Poem: All on record

By: Balu George


When I was young, I took guitar classes,
I joined the band,
And tried my hand at Karate.
The guitar was sold within a month,
The band uniform was confined to the cupboard,
Within a week,
And the Karate dress was used by my mother to clean the floor.

Where is this poem going?
I just wanted to put it all on record.
I think it is funny.
The things we try our hands at!



Categories: Poetry

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