Forgive me father, for I have sinned,
For a second or two, I went with the wind.
Thinking that you were proud of me.
But now there’s an otherwise, now I want to flee.
Free from the shame, away from the guilt,
Of discontinuing to be the ‘perfect child’ you built.
With bricks of love, support and care.
I’m sorry for filling you with despair.
However, my apologies are in vain.
Because you compare, time and again.
You look away, you fail to see.
You shut your ears to my plea.
You do not wish to hear,
The problems I face, the pain I bear.
When despite my hard work, I always fall.
When life stops taking my side at all.
Now here I am, amidst this storm,
of expectations to follow the ‘scholar’ norm.
Tell me, can your ‘scholars’ do this,
Use words as bullets and never miss?