Marks Do Matter

Roaring it's way down,

Pregnant with soil and silt,

Carving it's path,

Through bends and meanders,

Forming beautiful ox bow lakes,

More the weight,

More beauty and utility it creates.

Fertile plains and landscapes,

Feeding empty mouths and empty stomachs,

Of men, women and children,

Animals and plants,

Performance and Grades,

They do not define, you my child,

They guide,

Like the silt and grime,

They motivate to hard work

And reach your prime,

Carve your way.

Through beautiful landscapes.