worse than hell

Quite miserable, he once again moves out of the room,
Once again, to the balcony,
Fiddles with clothes dried in sun, comes back in,
Goes to his room, lets out his frustration, says something stupid,
Gets thrashed for one more time.
And once again he moves out of his room,
This time to another room.
Keeps rolling around in the same vicious circle,
Hopping from one place to another in his own house.
What he lacks is peace, in his mind, in his soul.
Adulterates the atmosphere with his vibes.
Neither lives, nor lets other breathe.
Or is it the other way round?
He tries but fails; to make a presence,
To involve in a banter, says something humorous but immature.
And there he goes again.
He is alone, happy to be with friends,
His heart is splendid. He aspires for stars.
Has clandestine desires, which no one tends to embrace.
They want to see him flourish, but in their own ways.
They are the trend setters,
And they want him to follow the suit.
Study my child! They say…
They let him loose for leisure, for games,
But they want him to be disciplined.
Why not have a fixed time to study,
And save the rest to fly with dreams.
Gardener performs his duty well,
So expects the flowers to blush,
Dance with the rain, smile in the spring.
He keeps removing the weeds, to keep his little colorful kids healthy.
But the flowers fail to understand.
They don’t mind the weeds…
May god bless them with an instinct to bloom,
And spread their fragrance everywhere…