By Mariyam Shirolkar
It's a sin for mother dearest to talk to me.
She prays that arrogance doesn't lead me astray, into a disgruntled and heinous way.
Words are the most dangerous weapon to hurt the soul.
That's why I dance with words.
Oops! I hope I don't harm the soul.
My brother says I write reality in my own words,
I asked what's that supposed to even mean? You nerd.
Honestly I don't even care,
What can I do, I am a free bird.
Apparently I am vulgar, according to my dearest father.
That doesn't really matter to my discomposure,
Nor does it really bother my uniquely creepy squanders.
I don't have an elder sister or a younger one, so there's no conversation to narrate about all these sisterly matters.
Indeed, one may ask,
What do you think of yourself?
I must say ‘Goodness, gracious, no’ I could never think about myself, not even for a split second,
since being empathetic is in my veins.
I am called heartless,
so as they say this girl has no emotions at all,
but oh, how dare they let my heart get in blood's way.
Of course, I have emotions,
They just aren't in motion.
Dead as a concept,
ahead of an invisible footstep.
Lock my brain, throw the key,
I will unlock my mind to free my brain and secretly flee! Wee!
Explore the insides of the energetic train in my soul.
But promise me you won't bid me a goodbye that would break my whole.
I shall soon show the world what I really mean.
Indeed, this crooked soul shall soon be seen.
Civilization just needs to chill and not be so damned mean.
I am so fed up of this fault-finding society,
I totally am not a repartee, least to say a crooked human being. Wee!