Sixteen Mad Boys
Sixteen mad boys we were,
We were all unique in our own ways.
For cricket we had a never-ending craze,
Standing tall against the heat haze.
Be it farms or the ground next to the church,
We were familiar with every pitch.
Be it tennis or county or leather,
We were familiar with every stitch.
The ground was our niche,
We never had pavilions.
We just relished playing our game,
Unlike the other civilians.
Although we all were good friends,
Only after the match ends.
But before the match an enraged batallion of eight,
Willing to go to any extent to win over the other eight.
Today After sixteen years i visited my village,
Only to see the wreckage.
The grounds are gone as if they never existed
I wanted to play again with my brothers,
But I missed it.
#kavyotsav2
