It was either Mama’s choice or nothing;
I went only where she wanted,
I never ate without her consent.
I was like a humming bird held captive.
Then Papa, oh Papa!
He had several devices of imprisonment:
“Chima, study time!”
“Chima, siesta!”
How would any of these make me a superstar?
I kept on counting the days,
Waiting to escape from that dungeon of juvenility
Or be freed voluntarily, if the universe permits.
Lo! The universe was kind enough;
A new dawn at last!
18 and alive; the best gift ever.
I live by my own principles,
Learning from my own mistakes, experiences.
A lot changed but I still count the days
And I still love Papa and Mama.
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