A second feels like a year passed in agony,
Now every single day is a pudding of misery.
Life would be so complex, I never did expect,
When your own ‘loved ones” forget the meaning of mutual respect.
They would shame you for talking and call you loud,
Disgust you for being fat and often, call you a clown.
Some would talk behind your back; many insult you on your face,
For they cannot accept you in your own beautiful ways.
Life’s battles would not come easy, they have told me well enough,
Their constant demeaning of you would fill you with sheer distrust.
But the question now arises of consent, if it has ever been given,
To make a laughing stock or question my every little action.
This life is the bliss of my parents and God; nobody can anymore intervene,
For tolerance has its own limits, I shall endure no more mental strain.