Auction

Another night, I cry to sleep;

The pillow, the shoulder to weep.

It tried in vain to console,

That gush of tear I could not hold.

Flash. A vision. Turning back.

He had said: "Fault, mistake and other lack."

And had summoned and complained,

Of Immaturity, he had blamed.

And I thought again, and wept.

In spite of the promises I kept,

I failed another one again,

Some more hurt, I felt some more pain.

Disappointed he was in me. He said,

“Come to me instead.

I will teach you. It’s a tough road ahead,

Come to me baby, don’t fret.”

And so it was, like a game;

An auction board that read “Bid to Claim”.

I had to go, for he came,

And reared me up, again, much the same.

I grew, but to hear

“You’re still so careless dear!

Now come to me, I shall teach,”

Said another. The bidding process was to repeat.

But to my readers, before you are caught,

In this world, you won’t be taught,

That to live your own way,

You needn’t always obey.

A smart player will know it quick,

To play the game, learn its trick.

The only way, soon you'll see,

Is to learn to breakfree.