B.Sc. | Poem

Ruffled hair,

With a mind so bare

Perplexed eyes,

seeming rather too nice.

 

I was at the B.Sc. Classroom,

Thinking about witches and a flying broom

For I wanted to be a writer

Making my words brighter.

 

I knew I had the wit,

But here, I was to have a cockroach slit!

 

The people I knew,

And the diagrams I drew,

The bugs I killed,

And the worms I milled!

 

Where were those animal rights guys?

I looked around,

I was far from their cries,

In a stable ground.

 

From ecology to the evolution of creatures

From what they ate,

To how they mate;

I began to like their features.

 

Few practicals and many theory

Most often, I was very cheery.

 

I started to like my subject

In all its depth and heights

I did pull over some late nights

To read up on those animal rights.

 

I set out to explore nature’s mystery,

Wanting to sail like Darwin & Columbus,

Ignoring my writing history

I never had a mental rumpus.

 

What is zoology- is it a science so refine?

Here’s what I have,

Let me define:

 

Zoology is a science and an art,

A passion and a curiosity

A way to learn and to impart:

The wonders of biodiversity.