Sitting on a bench,
In a beautiful park,
I was thinking of the queer world,
With one side bright,
And the one which is dark.

It was a beautiful morning,
With colourful birds chirping.
I felt a cold shiver suddenly,
And I wore my jacket quickly.

My vision got unstable.
It was perplexing.
I saw something white.
Everywhere, it started filling.

I felt despair,
And I started coughing.
This strange white thing,
Could never be the pleasant winter fog.
It was definitely smog.

The world is so strange.
The nature plays its own game.
With its various pawns,
Like the snow covered roads,
And the burning lawns.

The world is so queer,
The fact is so clear.
Fog or smog, cold or hot,
This is like a tangled knot.

Why is the world so queer?
I guess my answer is near.

– Riya Singh, 8th Grader Student