Birth Shades

There are times when I feel beaten
Tired, and vacuous.
The world seem like a prison,
Caging me in.
Why? I have never asked.
For, I know-
There are no answers
To some of the simplest questions,
Of life.

Born of the wrong shade- ah! girl-
Mollycoddled and adored,
Educated and inspired
To win the world, attain the dreams,
Smile to eternity,
Spread joy,
And be all that you want to.
The false promises, of once,
Pricks me, today-
A pain searing, it forces its way
Through me.

You asked me to sketch my life,
In every way I like.
You gave me colours,
And taught me to mix hues,
To create that shade,
Of me.
And now, when I paint myself,
To reflect on the tinged mirrored space,
You ask me to step back,
And drape myself in a cloak
Of pitch black.

Why? I wonder out loud.
Answers none, you offer.
Norms, Society, Tradition-
You murmur incoherent strings of words.
And my voice gets caught,
In the turbulent tide of emotion,
That gurgles it way through my throat.
But, in vain.

Surreal, those yesterdays.
Charred, those dreams, you effused.
Fake, those glittery wings,
You taught to flutter.


Wish I'd understand,
If, this day of chaining my soul, it had to be-
Then, why, o' why
Did you fill me with those myriad colours,
In childhood?

Why those winged turquoise dreams,
When you knew all along,
My birth shade would pull me back,
And, someday, everything would turn sepia??

Answers, I no longer ask for.
All that remains, are questions galore.