• aerated_shadows 5w

    This is a letter to seven year old Angel. Who once thought by scoring good in 12th biology she can become a doctor.
    I've written this poem from a place where I hope no one will ever have to go.

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    A letter to young myself

    Angel,
    I know I will never get to see you,
    But I've got this medium to talk to you,
    So I could tell you all the bitter truth.
    There will be ample to time to heal the wounds.
    Right now you are a crazy teenager butterfly,
    Even buds qppear as flowers to you.
    All your wishes get fulfilled,
    Even before you ask for them.
    You celebrate your birthday for over a month.
    Those gifts wrapped in glittery wrappers,
    Will seem more expensive than blessings to you.
    Neither will you value the simple vegetables,
    That everyone will feed you forcefully.
    There won't be any shortage in your upbringing,
    Neither will anyone poison your thinking.
    You have milk in your glass today,
    Tomorrow there will be beer in it.
    But no on will ever make you,
    Take a sip of bitter reality of life.
    You are oblivious to your fortune,
    You think exam stress is the biggest stress.
    But you will know,
    When you will have sleepless nights,
    And they will be filled with countless screems.
    Soon, you will fall in love,
    And you will feel that your heart belongs to him.
    But when the bubble of love will burst one day,
    You will know that you were used to him.
    And the day when you will need love,
    You will find yourself alone in the crowd.
    The world will spit at your principles,
    You will fall from your own books.

    Love
    Angel.
    ©angel_wadhwa12