You are born to a mother, yet raised by her own
Surname after your father’s, but your were a princess to someone else’s throne
They ask you of the legacy,one you’ve never been told
If only they asked you which Panchatantra story do you love the most.
You are expected to learn of world’s great wonders
Yet you are chided as you teach yourself to sing to roaring thunders.
Someone scarred you for life, but for common good,you hide those heinous fouls
So in subliminal slumber your tortured soul howls.
They ask you, how’s school, but forget to inquire if you have any friends?
So you go on adapting yourself to new chapters, swaying on each bend
They give chance upon chance to have a fresh start but what about those unfinished ends?
Each is a victim of their own circumstances so you have none but yourself to blame
You forget who’s a bigger pawn in this vicious game.
You now have friends but know nothing of friendship
You then meet a lover and instantly have him worshiped.
Each day you cry out your story, only to vanish in a pitch dark vacuum
How can anyone sing your song when you yourself don’t remember the tune?
You are sure you had some happy days but you’re too stubborn to remember
For sorrow is your muse now, that has you surrendered.
But I implore you not to lose that ray of hope
For maybe you’ll find a better muse that helps you cope.
Keep writing these meaningless scribbles if you find comfort in them
Maybe they alone can someday turn you into a gem.