No Full Stop! Poem by Subrata Ray

I remember the first letter I learn t from you,
An impression of a graved phoneme.
Then came, -B, C, D and the last one Z.

I was growing to be a word, -with sense,
My child like play to adolescence- trance,
Fragments of sentences began to peep.

Languages of my own came by and by,
Their mystic faces demanded correction,
You came and began to apply.

My wild blackboard with omnivorous hunger,
Stomached lines and paintings of your art,
Part and part, part and part, -continued.

Where is the whole? the full sentence! I cried,
Lessons come, burdens, and go blemish,
I feel, my education is ill, it feeds not my heart.

All the marks of punctuation, save the full stop, I have,
For, they are the daily -friends of my passage way,
But you Dearest Full Stop, ever say.-‘Nay"! ! !