The park school of street children

At the park,
they learnt better lessons,
for no fee but attention,
sound mind and open senses,
to take notes while with no inkpot,
they took bruises,
to the skin for memorising purpose.
A school for brave,
alike minded and same dressed,
for the park boundaries kept creeds outside,
and let in raw learners,
who played harsh games,
kicked ball, swinged chains,
and dirt dipped went home,
unwillingly and educated.
They learnt by falling,
practiced by crawling,
perfected by spirits,
tested by taunts,
as they thrived for respect.
They did not crib for expensive clothes,
or for shoes,
they disregarded torn and holes,
barefooted, they felt lessons,
than just hearing them.
They learnt fun, punctuality,
respect, pack playing, friendship,
hope, patience and freedom.
They felt no shoulder weight of school bag,
but urge to be alive,
they took imprints on their minds,
as they studied life closely,
their strong minds, their notebooks,
not slim fragile paper,
their skin bore marks,
as corrections to shortcomings.
The park school,
taught them life,
life taught them lessons,
ruggedly they grew,
not engineers but masons,
who today live in unshakable homes.