To poetry and imagination

‘Which planet were you visiting?’
The teacher mockingly asks,
‘Probably another solar system.’
The student at the back laughs
‘I’m sorry ma’am’-
A failed attempt smile,
indignantly look up at the board
Laughter ripples through the class,
can’t play along anymore.

If the table were just this table,
and not a super secret advance computer
If the washing machine were just a machine,
and not a wormhole for other worlds
If my walls simply cream,
without the secret passage codes.
Would the world still be revolving?
No, everything would have stopped

Imagination keeps the world living-
and those who can’t see our world,
The world with imagination painted
on every object around,
They certainly are deprived of what is worth living
For imagination is what keeps my pulse throbbing
So what if a blind man can’t appreciate my ways
I won’t give up my eyes for what others have said

If the flow of poetry hadn’t been real
Would emotions have existed as more than surreal
So what if a deaf man can’t hear the beautiful stream
The stream of emotion following through my veins
I won’t give in to others have said.