Another Poem
Looking back
All my life I watched as they tried to win each other’s love. Like potholes on the Malaysian road discords appeared wherever and whenever. Yet I never asked:
What about me?
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Even when I was there for them, obedient and affectionate, criticisms abounded.
I myself too insufficient, and undeserving of the comfort of full and total acceptance of what I bring come as I may. It makes sense that
I kept my bullying troubles to myself. Left alone, I never got to learn what I am really made of, and for years stayed as that problematic child, too shy, ugly, non-smiling, too eager to shine,
in the eyes of those who still think they know me.
– Love does not have to be won, but I’ll get it for myself
