Looking Through a Mother’s Eyes. 

​The bell rang,

Declaring the end of the class.

The drawing teacher moved about the room

Judging the children’s works

A compliment here.

A critique there.

Reaching Arun’s desk,

He turned up his nose

And mercilessly,

Scoffed at his work.

The entire class jeered

At his misery

Leaving the boy dejected. 

He ran home and straight to his bed

Paying no heed to his mothers calls,

Crying himself to sleep.

The next morning, with swollen eyes

He woke up, to find

His painting framed on the wall.

‘Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder’, he thought

As his mother encouragingly smiled at him.

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