Analysis of Childhood

Three I was when,
I got my first book.
My hands went forward,
I got shooked.

Writing words,
On the page.
Went on learning the things,
According to my age.

Nursery turned to class 1st,
Class 1st to 5th.
From 5th onwards,
I was made stiff.

Completing copies,
Learning words.
Something vanished,
Like a bird.

Thinking over it,
I got to know.
My childhood,
Was ordered to go.

That happiness of rain,
That will for the butterfly.
Those moon and stars,
The cuddle when I cry.

To make me mature,
My madness was taken away.
Yah! Now I'm mature,
But this maturity has nothing to say.

Don't know whether again,
I'll live those days.
But advising you to not let,
Any child lose those days.