The Will of a Boy

I die at the will of my own,

Not a flower for me should be thrown,

For a flower you never gave when I was alive ,

What point in giving one when I die.

When life had betrayed,

How could have I stayed ,

Fooled myself each day ,

Thinking I’d be accepted next day.

The next day never came, it never does,

It was now time to decide,

Death I chose, what was left in life,

With no support, how could I strive.

My belonging, though a few,

Donate them as I bid adieu,

You don’t deserve them, none of you do,

Why not give to those who need a few.

You didn’t smile for me in life,

Why cry now,

Don’t blame yourself,

It’s too late now.

Don’t burn me, Nor bury me,

It’s a demand, And it is my right,

Leave me in the forest,

In harmony I shall rest.

To god I say, you aren’t perfect,

For this time, you made a mistake,

You can’t read my mind, and so you didn’t,

And so your reputation is at stake.

You made man and gave him trouble,

This time, I guess you did too much,

Gave all the problems to little boy,

But didn’t give an extra touch.

Had you given him a talent,

A hope as such,

I bet to you,

It would’ve been the extra touch.

If you ask me why I did so

A Simple reason, I would say so,

A burden too big, and the bearer too small,

After all, you know, I had to fall.