The Poet's Perspective

The Boy who felt Inferior

I was leaning back leisurely on my luxurious throne,
And glancing at my creations
I caught sight of a boy,
Who was sad

The traces of tears that ran down his cheeks
Told the stories of his failures
His crumpling tight grip,
on the already crumpled piece of paper in his hand,
Revealed his bottled up anger on his unjust life

The boy was sad because,
He felt he was inferior,
The boy was sad because
He was a dot, a dot on the page of life,
Filled with exclamatory marks

I laughed at the boy's ignorance
I am the god and I say it,
All my creations are special and different
And I didn't create a fish to fly

*few years later*

I was leaning on my throne,
Inspecting my creations as usual,
And I eyed the boy again

He was happy, and so was I
Because that dot did not evolve into an exclamation
The dot made the exclamatory marks follow him.!!!