In their hoards, annoyingly they come, everyday,
At me, with their thousand eyes, they bluntly stare,
Poke and touch me if they ever get a chance,
Got the right; they think cos’they bought tickets.
When none were born, I was made; I’m ancient thus,
But, standing whole day without blinking eyes, it really sucks,
I wish the day gets over, when the museum shuts,
Only then I’m able to breathe easy, and move about.

This post is for Magpie Tales 230
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Copyright 2014 © Nandini Deka

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