this is my story
some call it a song
for a few, it's an epic
and for the lady of the house,
it is a(n auto) biography
for she feels, it is her story
but for me, it's my story
for i stay the way i am forever
i was born on this day
a few years ago
how many years ago?
that really doesn't matter
what matters to me is the day,
the day i was planted in
this dark corner of the house
where i stay the way i am forever
many sigh in irritation
when their eyes focus on me
they murmur with deep hatred
"this plant has grown sideways,
twisted, just slightly upward."
"it defies the rule of a straight plant"
"it isn't pretty at all"
"oh how ugly it is!"
but i stay the way i am forever
someone asks, 'why do you still keep it then?'
"i can’t discard a living thing!
i placed it in the dark corner
for it cant be seen by any"
responds the lady
to whom i belong as a property
a(n un)wanted property
that stays the way it is forever
there is an untold fact in the story
a truth that needs to be unraveled:
in fact, i mean, in truth,
she sees me as her representation!
the off-course parts of her life
are mirrored in me!
some days she is right on track
then there is a knock
by an unforeseen challenge...
she is knocked to the side
and again she tries to start all over...
that is where she sees her 'self' in me
for i stay the way i am forever
she feels that i mock at her
so she scowls at me and then shouts
'why are you not straight?
tell me, why are you not pretty?
oh shit, why are you not dead?'
she cries aloud but without help...
what can i do?
i stay the way i am forever
