In a corner of the room they lay,
A tattered diary with some hastily torn pages;
Memoir of a marred childhood.
They see it but don’t have the courage
To read it as they know,
It has answers, answers to all whys,
For his exasperation, for that indifferent goodbye.
As indifference was their only answer;
When he laid on his knees, begged them: “Stop it please”
And they grinned,said “That’s the way life goes”
Then when he pleaded to let him go away;
His father, disapproved, laughed so hard;
And his dreams were broken like shards of glass.
He cried, till there were no tears in his eyes;
He died and that death made him realise
that he abhorred them, it was pure abhorrence and not hate,
For hate was so mild and mistaken for love.
He left, with that indifferent goodbye, left them in the hands of fate.
He was too tired to take revenge,he’d forgive and forget, let go off the pain.
And there they’ll lay
The tattered diary with hastily torn out pages.
Scribbled on them, his dreams.
The big ones and the small, he lives them right now.
What does it matter?
This world or another.
But they’ll never know;
Not that they don’t have the right to
but because they don’t have the courage.

This is the story of a teenager who persevered through continuous abuse at the hands of his father. He finally left his “house”.

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