Every day he questions his existence,
Every day he negotiates with life.
They say childhood scars follow you around
So, why the hell are they called golden?
His schoolmates labelled him the ‘funny one’,
In college, he was the ‘loner’.
His desk job barely pays his bills
And he’s on pills to control his ‘condition’.
Why couldn’t his mother be kind
Like the mothers his friends talked about?
Why couldn’t his father hold back
The blows that agonizingly knocked him out?
They say they just wanted a perfect life for him
And now, look, how he has turned out,
A mere skeleton protecting a static heart
And they still call him the ‘funny one’.
– Rubani Kaur
Photography Credit: Unknown