When the little boy was born,
He didn't know how to speak,
Neither could he stand,
As his legs were very weak.

Slowly he learned to walk,
Slowly he learned to talk,
And then he picked up a slate,
In his other hand a chalk.

They taught him to write,
Letters, numbers, and vowels,
He was just a tender plant,
Which they had started to shovel.

Before the plant could grow,
They wanted to reap its fruits,
Make the leaves shine green,
Not worrying for the root.

When the little one became a child,
They threw him off to school,
Where only the marks mattered,
Everything else was fool.

Study hard today,
There's a bright future tomorrow,
This one meager line,
Became his biggest sorrow.

However hard he tried,
They always wanted more,
That's where he faltered,
And got a good score.

"He has scored ninety percent,
He'd become an engineer,"
To take his life's decision,
They had gladly volunteered.

"But I don't like it,
Why don't you understand,
The words appeal me more,
Not how the machines mend."

But their decision had been made,
They had poisioned the very root,
And that grown little boy,
Was once again mute.

Today there's a degree,
Hanging proudly on their wall,
But their boy is far away,
He's become a tree tall.

They tried to cut his feathers,
But the bird still soared away,
To chase his own dreams,
He had finally found a way.

It was always bound to happen,
He just needed to start,
He maybe an engineer in degree,
But he'd remain a writer by heart.

***

"Never forget your dreams."