There is no certainty,
With me.
They say it so blatantly,
I wish they would believe in me.
But then again,this life is uncertain on its own.
Why do I expect the impossible?
I wonder why I bemoan,
This truth that's inevitable.
Author's Note: I came up with this during a car ride back from one of my O level exams with my mother. While she was disecting how good exactly i did do on the exam i had to bear the utter disbelief she had for my words. When I told her I left 5 or 6 marks she said lets slash of 15 marks just in case, do you still think you'll get an A based on what you wrote back there?
At times like this i feel so disheartenned
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Strands of Time
PoetryA collection of feelings, hurts, experiences and lessons learnt, felt and lived. A road woven in time for 9 years and continuing. Information for Readers: You'll notice in the titles, the poems run from "Class 7 to Class 15", I started writing from...
