When I was seven, a pale pink girl—

Mummy said to go out and play

in the June shine, make little friends, and have some fun.

There was always a 'but' in our conversations.

"But make sure you don't get too much into them."

Your mind was too packed with thoughts about exposing 'too' much.

When I was said to wear baggy shirts and trousers,

A 'but' slipped from my mouth into her ears:

"But they are too big to wear!"

The time when I wrote my first poem

and read it aloud to you at midnight—

Your brows furrowed, you snorted:

"But you should focus more on studies, Darlin'

Writing won't help enough; it's just an escape from reality."

And there have been many days and many times,

When you dumbed my wishes and stamped yours upon them:

A red mark of 'your' wishes, 'your' rules.

To you, I was a computer:

You'd give me instructions, and I'd have to follow them without whining.

To you, I need to be the perfect kid:

No parties, no lovers, no passions—

Just a straight aim to run after to earn money.

You were like an overwhelming explosion upon my chest.

I had never wanted to be perfect.

I had never wanted to be great.

I had always wanted to be ordinary—

to be just me, of who I am.

But here I am, sitting on the leather chair,

tapping away my phone: rescheduling my meeting.

I'm the Executive Officer of a company now.

I touched fame but not for myself.

I succeded but not the way I wanted to.

I am earning money but not how I wished for it.

It was all in your desire; it was all planned according to you;

All the time, it has been you who was the puppeteer,

Tying strings on my wrists and moving me like a puppet.

And there's never been room for me.

I was always a shadow trembling upon the wall—

Like a ray of sunshine trying to penetrate through the thick December snow.

This me is not me now.

It's a paranoid puppet you played with, Mummy.

It's the puppet that agreed to all your 'but's.

And we end here with a spill of blood

and a single burn on my face.

None of your 'but's will work now.

And I know it's too late to say:

But better late than never

Trying to end with another crucial 'but'.