Kids in Graves!

It is unusual for this to happen to me. I thought thus.
After all, I was born there, in the wilderness, in my paradise
In distinct symphony with nature; in my profitable ways,
The morning dew in the feet, the sound of streams
In the classroom, winds stalking sugar-cane leaves
And vanishing with a promise to come back
And of course chirpy girls, like sparrows, chirping about me,
How do I see red in their cheeks and pink in their smiles!

Then, how is this vacuum in my heart? No, this isn’t a paradise.
This is a mound, a vacuum inside and my body in it. No,
This isn’t the paradise that I saw. Or, am I in having another incarnation
Or, in another paradise? I doubt that too! There ain’t no bird.
Paradise, in my wilderness, they have birds and trees. Yea, may be
The kids, they might have taken all the joys out of here.