Forlorn

Of what use,
is a stunted plant
in a forest known for
its blooming mangroves ?
All plants I can think of,
graduated into trees,
who shall bear fruits,
shower their flowers,
by whose names the forest
shall ever be remembered.

They gave me another chance
to prove my worth,
A solace ? Or, apathy
guised as sympathy ?
They should've rather
chopped me off, and
planted a better seed.
But who knows, the curse
could have passed on ?

Let me crush myself,
peacefully, and
let their image
remain untarnished,
let the soil save its
little nourishment.
To decay once for all,
is better than rotting
bit by bit everyday.


(The backdrop is the suicide committed by one student a few months back)