Wrong

 

I. Wrong.

How sorry I am to have hurt you so much,

Biblical ego and selfish ignorance,

Leaving no room for you, as such…

 

As I lived life's naked ironies,

Giving everything, or so I thought,

To manage you as a life's category…

 

Now it dawns that you ain't a category,

It's you whose smile makes all this worthy,

It's you who makes my life savoury…

 

I wronged you in so many ways,

Expecting to blind following,

As if, you can't gauge…

 

Ignored how you nourish everybody,

Judging your fickleness,

Calling it lack of capacity…

 

As you're pushed to despair,

By this life's questionnaire,

Breaking you beyond repair.

 

Our apathy feeds your emotional poverty,

Till you see your lovers as admonishers,

Treated as an object of pity…